Written in the spring of 2006

Your excitement lights me up like a pinball machine
the vibrance in my eyes reflecting the colors of your shirt
Your chapped lips dance and your tongue screams for freedom
the ideas that spew hit my reflexes like a man entitled MD

Your apathetic intelligence rings so familiar and warm
makes my mouth mimic yours and makes me want
to let your smoke drift from my softer lips

so that my smoke
and your words

can play along the ceiling of your truck

Every now and then I revisit old words that I have written, and I am always struck by what I create. Not that it they are anything of exceeding beauty or depth or originality...but that they are mine.

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