Personal enough I
“Oh, my crazy mind,” I thought. I was born and I died a million times inside my head till…
The complicated wicked play of this life
You spoke to me from ‘cross the room
In mischief tones that turned to cones
Of crystal light to caress my skin
Laughter rose with steam from the gutter
And festoon lamps came on with a sputter
As we wandered through confetti crowds
