Face goes under
Like rolling thunder
An oncoming wave of apprehension
Stirs my electric appetite's convention
I feel the breeze under my skin
Face goes under when I sin
Time elapses like a fine grain of sand
My conventionalism comes from
Weird things on my hands
Face goes under
When I walk the fine line
Eyes closed I can see things benign
Truth in a bottle
A fine fixation on the label
Face goes under
When others tell a fable...
J.P.S.
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