|Image courtesy- Kanika of 'Sensitive Chaos'|
curling our way out of the bottle.
never really smoking,
but making a lot of smoke anyway.
Or we might be underwater.
Sick of blue s and green s,
sick of beauty in its purest form,
of life as raw as my steak.
No matter where we are,we WILL fit in.
As if we always belonged here,
without really belonging anywhere.
No more saying,
"wrong place,wrong time,wrong vagina!"
In TRUE Hank Moody style!
P.S.this post is inspired from Fantabulous February-day seven,Kanika's brainchild,if you remember.I joined rather late and I might not be that regular but I'll try.NOTHING has kept on my toes like this one!