pushing up daisies
All my flowers grow in strange places...
In the work of screaming mad George. In the last vegan donut at the coffee shop. In the exposed heart of crystal Bowie. In an American spirit dropped between the folds of my scarf. In the way my hair stands on its own some days.
It's the last copy of gunsmith cats at the bookshop. In the desolation of erotica. The salt at the bottom of the skinny pop...
Love is truly a strange thing.