I read you clean, between the lines
how beautiful your picture is
but pictures lie, I know sometimes
and words and eyes and souls and lips
how beautiful they seem (they seem)
hey is that picture really you?
I guess it could be someone else
how would I know? For real and true
I'm filling all your details in
if you won't tell, they're mine to spill
I can't be sure, but I can spin
the story you won't tell, I will
a tale or two to flesh you out
with grinning teeth and blushing skin
a mind without a spot of doubt
invents a box, and stuffs you in
No comments:
Post a Comment
Anything you have to say - question, critique, interpretation, praise or rebuke - is received with gratitude and interest.
If it looks like spam and contains a link, though, it will not be published. I will cherish it to myself, instead. Thank you!