She was strange
with her transistor radio
melting into spaces
in a whirlwind
white noise
purr
a lightning rod
a conduit
she was
selfless by design
addicted to flannel
IQ unknown. a prodigy on
piano
the sound
of sound colliding
what would we do?
death of the transistor radio
boo. hoo
she shook the radio gently
turned the dial shook the static
out her hair
for a moment was she
colloquially. informal
mad mixed with strange and static
electricity. far from normal
she arched her back
crossed her legs
envisioned whole
golden hard-boiled eggs
exploded to the
to the
to the
to the
sound
of sound colliding
source energy fields
filled the gaps in her spine
death of the
transistor radio
short wave break beats
resonate through her
so slow you could catch it
if you just stood still. there
stood still. there
still. there
we would. there
we did. there
oceans of sound = places she reside
with flora and fauna
she washes in on the tide
she's strange
hard to get to know
you must rearrange
to attune with her
so go!
reconfigure your cortex
two firewalls down!
dive into her transistor
ocean of sound!
you may touch into her
if she looks to be found
often hiding in shade
with the lights drawn blue
where her heart and
her secrets lie in wait
for you
(just up the dial
from you know who)
guess what?
she is yours
the breath of god
out her pores
into yours
you are hers
she is yours
guess what?
i am yours
you are mine
i am hers
she is yours
all the hours
time is fine
you are mine
venus furs
world tours
you are mine
i am yours
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