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| 3. |
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| 10. |
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| 11. |
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And there were those films
Made in the Seventies where dolls ran through fields Late at night, after men His shirt is my dress I lost my knees and hands He drowned my make-up in the white sand And I'm too tiny for a heart this big It swells like an ocean It's breaking the jail of ribs And he said it won't hurt And he said it won't hurt And he said it won't hurt A lie the size of the sky And this hotel is dusty and he's locked the door And the sea's gone so far out I can't see it anymore I was baking when he kissed me I put flour in his hair He rolled me like a bottle, whispering wrong French in my ear |
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