jonathan Juarez - mutual

The horoscope was a week old
They went anywhere mentionable
The street cleaners skipped breakfast
Tiny rivulets drip, spot the table cloth
She sits anticipating, thinking nothing
Blood smat the left side of his face
They should of patched the ceiling
Nothing is stranger than reality

jonathan Juarez

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/mutual-5/