I'm hopping puddles
across state lines
and over words not meant for me
The sun falls down,
and these puddles clean up -
syl-
la-
ble
by
syl-
la-
ble
I am not losing anything
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this grace gives me fear, and this grace draws me near, and all that it asks it provides
1 comment:
this... i love. hoppĂpolla.
it makes me think of freeways and driving and rain and sunshine.
hoppĂpolla.
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