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Poetry and Prose
Pretty Things
Being with you leaves me so satisfied
All that’s wrong with the world
I let roll by
I want to bathe in the cocoon of being fed
Of rummaging in bodies
While letting go in the head
Being with you I get free
Being with you helps me be me

Take what you must
But leave behind your will
It’s not yours or mine
It’s the spirited till
We gallop up mountains
Then roll down sideways in the mud
I want to lay with you in the springs
And do all sorts of pretty things

We’ll wash away the dark
We’ll be each others arc
I want to lay with you in the springs
You’re my ray
You’re my hey
You’re my Little Bo Peep on a rainy day
I want to lay with you in the springs
And do all sorts of pretty things