I am thinking
like a white powder
that is sprinkled on a wound
or on a plate of food.
I like to listen
like a flood virtually real
that loves the low lands
or form Mexican waves in galleries.
Who sells?
and what?
Is it him with cups of tea
or me with a fist of money?
The sky is blue from earth.
The sky is black out of here.
The blood is red, - mine.
Yours is gorgeous even if in green.
like a white powder
that is sprinkled on a wound
or on a plate of food.
I like to listen
like a flood virtually real
that loves the low lands
or form Mexican waves in galleries.
Who sells?
and what?
Is it him with cups of tea
or me with a fist of money?
The sky is blue from earth.
The sky is black out of here.
The blood is red, - mine.
Yours is gorgeous even if in green.
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