Tuesday, June 15, 2004

Joe Pye Weed (Eupatorium purpureum)

We shared food and formed a circle with the enemy
With the unknown so near or far away, we had some or no choice
The corners of her lips met one another at the back of her head
Her thin skin almost clear against her face
Forming a sort of cottage window with veins where the leaded glass should have been

Don't make me come down there! That's it...you're getting it right now!

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