"I will lay my hands
on your nape
& appease your day
I will lay my hands on your softness
& cream the booty
I wil lay my hands on your gentleness to the world
& hear what it says
I will lay my hands
& try to appease what lies behind your securing urban smiles
I will lay my hands on your terror if you concede it
I will lay my hands on your breast as if it was burning luck
I will lay my hands as if for fucking once you were true & I could see it."
Jim Moronson, Hands Latitudes, French people are strange (1967).
Twilight instrumental
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I always wanted a music blog. (On Spotify as Will Schofield.)
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