by Raven Garland
(Fairfield, IA, USA)
I like a house that whistles.
I like to wear my blouse in the house as it whistles-
In the wind - its not a sin to be cute
and to be a parachute in the air for all your care.
I love you too.
In my house in my blouse and your whistle is a thistle in the driftwood of the lightning striking closer than a scream in my ear.
Every year on the beach comes a storm
but your arms keep me warm
and you whistle at my every curving -
love you baby - please come here
come near, come home to our house that screams
to our house that screams.
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