The Captain's Blog
Poems. Thoughts. Finger-Pointing. Rants. Randomness. Dill Pickles.
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
GREAT SAYING # 613
when i wake up one morning
and scratch the dust off my old, withered bones;
i will finally be outside myself enough
to fall like a single piece of skin
off the back of a sunburned stranger.
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