Goddamn I love the sad smell of cedar, how it's musk weighs, in the closet soaking my clothes.
She's dusty, on the mantle, she leans between the naked angels and dried flowers.
I love sandpaper, the dust that makes me sneeze like I'm coming.
Im a little dark woman. I make things with my hands.
I fall asleep with my mind whirling thoughts like how no one has two shadows,
how in another life I'd become a truck driver--
She's dusty, on the mantle, she leans between the naked angels and dried flowers.
I love sandpaper, the dust that makes me sneeze like I'm coming.
Im a little dark woman. I make things with my hands.
I fall asleep with my mind whirling thoughts like how no one has two shadows,
how in another life I'd become a truck driver--
that endless road, all those lit cities, those unwritten poems.
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