we’ve spent a lot of minutes & beads of sweat
feelin’ kinda like a bad metaphor to an emotion nobody knows.
goin’ over everyone’s heads.
but you know that times passin’
& it’s ‘cos of you
the hours and blood we put into this doesn’t compare.
you’re like the chimney sweeper of our heads
clearin’ up the gray
in sayin’ that though it’s not even simply black & white for us anymor
we’ve actually got colors coming thru
& i just want to box each moment and slide it under my bed.
i think we’re all starting to get it.
jus ‘cos it’s only two-dollar wands we’re wavin’ around
doesn’t mean we can’t cast some real magic.
i see it in all of your eyes.
the same kinda look that wooden puppet must of had when he came to.
real boy is nothin mor than a figure of speech
we’ve got the grain
the moral fiber.
all the joints are oiled
& we may be composed of spareparts
but they’re headin’ straight to the chop shop to fetch a dime.
this is just one of those “we will never change” posts
see you soon
LOVE
beau.
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