Eating oranges in the dark
The juice running up your sleeves
Pneumatic from a quarrel
With every word the last word
Your baby-precious comedrops
Seething on my chest
Hares bolt upright in the grass
At the skirt of a ploughed field
Eating oranges in the dark
The juice running up your sleeves
Pneumatic from a quarrel
With every word the last word
Your baby-precious comedrops
Seething on my chest
Hares bolt upright in the grass
At the skirt of a ploughed field