Someday on a Sunday.

Someday on a Sunday, I ‘ll rinse my hair in coconut oil and and wipe it dry with fresh Pampagras, Put on my best distressed jeans and jump into a pool of Irish wassail. Bathe in the sublime moonlight and sleep in a bed of frozen ice. What a day it will be when a finge flies in through prison bars and I keep hoping I’ll be someone sooner than later.


One response to “Someday on a Sunday.”

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