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Magazines

Britney Spears is on the road to self-implosion

Thank you People magazine
For that gratifying piece of
Information


Love Is Blue (And I Fell In)

You walked on water, I learned to drown,
with a fishhooked smile across my mouth.
Someday these lungs could mend,
when we break the hearts that will not bend.

You walked on water, I learned to sink,
asphyxiation? more than a fling;
I'm drowning here, if only in dreams.


Verse 1:
Love is blue, as the poets say,
and I skipped hearts across the bay;
and then I, with gasping breaths,
and crucifix arms thrown wide, fell in.
Sodden clothes as magnets pulled,
to an underwater sandcastle,
let me in...

Chorus:
You walked on water, I learned to drown
with a fishhooked smile across my mouth.
Someday, these lungs could mend;
When we break the hearts that will not bend.

With a fishhooked smile across my teeth,
asphyxiation? more than a fling.
I'm drowning here, if only in dreams.

Verse 2:
We sat beneath the Chicago sky,
your words were cold, and so was I.
Turned your head, and with a sigh,
said "Necessary is a state of mind".

"Chocolate masquerades in love and charades",
said I, in a small voice, for
small lies...

Chorus:
You walked on water, I learned to drown,
with a fishhooked smile across my mouth.
Someday, these lungs might mend;
When we break the hearts that will not mend.

You walked on water, I learned to sink
past my knees, below my feet;
I'm drowning here, If only in dreams.

You walked on water, I forgot to breathe:
Asphyxiation? More than a fling;
I'm drowning here, if only in dreams.



Mr. Sister

There’s a man, who,
with a ribbon in her hair
pays tribute to
overcoat cares
the moon-drenched streets, with
their parking lot peep shows
and wherever we go
he will be there
so just try to play fair
just try to pay fares


There’s this girl, who,
with a bowtie ‘round his throat
taps his cane to his shoe,
sheds her overcoat
looking for romance
and a lampost to dance ‘round
yeah, wherever that sound
is, he’s there too
so just tell him to share
just tell her to share

-chorus-
the trees won’t sing alone tonight
Mr. Sister breathes out moonlight
sweeps off his hat and takes a bow,
curtsies just to show the girls how
He is fine.
She is mine.


There’s this sir, who
when her pocket meets her hand
he begins to lose
the will to understand
looking for romance
and a lamppost to dance ‘round
yeah, wherever that sound
is, she’s there too
so just tell her to share
just tell him to share

-chorus-


So it’s back to that room,
where with a sigh and a broom
they beat the demons out
but with the demons go the wings
of angels and kings
so you sigh and die and do without
but it don’t have to be (this way)
she’ll make it right you’ll see (just stay)
(away)
away…
with all the broken colors
picture frames and thoughtless mothers
and in with the din and like
Oh, I found her face in moonlight
I found it all in moon’s light


The district sleeps alone tonight,
the dear sister’s out, inventing new sights
pulls a gun from her bag
as all the dogs’ tongues wag
he goes, and shoots at the sky
calls the wounds stars
and drinks in their light
So just tell him to share
tell her “be fair”


([.T]*e[m^]p"t[.r]ế-s.)

We bathed in the backlash of
a single ruptured lung;
her spit a pantheons' fist,
her fist a mnemonic graft.
And whilst she stumbled,
her arms outstretched,
we dodged.

The coughing waned and
her voice struck our spines,
as saliently as the rain
beats against our calloused skin.
We coat our hands in lye;
bury them in alchemists’ soil,
and sprout limbs that cannot
handle the synthesis of aging.
We cling to bones
being worn throughout the seasons;
as the bells atop tulip stems
pendulate until they break -
the weight of their existence
a toll many cannot take.

We shroud this land in jaded plooms,
a battalion of bloom,
as defeatist as we are conceited
in our verdant hoards,
her fortified limbs become
the veils that launder light instead.
Our presence is constant,
yet our roots have no backgrounds,
for there's nothing more unnatural
than a mother burying her son.

Her fingers wrap their way around
our embodied boughs,
and in a single breath she lifts us
from the dirt to scatter our kindling
on the Earth for yet another year.