Thursday, October 26, 2006

One Circle

This story is about Sabine and her bicycle.
Her bicycle is made of raw pink plastics with Christmas lights
And rusty steel with some rough pledge’s pride
Stamped with spirits of well-wishes and goodbyes
That only happens when Daylight cries.
Each droplet a friend, each friend her fortune
Waiting in brown wheat basket, the Clairvoyant sang about her backyard song

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