The Spider Songs of Mr. Spector
you make me touch your hands for stupid reasons
April 4th
for Chino
Red smell. Like peppercorns
uncracked.
You are the shadow in the room
that curls against the wall and
leaks beautiful sounds.
I'm looking at you through a
cardboard tube
in a downpour.
But mostly
(I'm afraid to say it.)
you know me
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