she wishes she was Helen.
her temple, sacred to all cynical teenagers
her temples, soldiers bounding from the barracks.
whittling war cries and humming to themselves.
the crickets mumble a tune, familiar to many.
one, two, three.
one, two, three,
one, two, three.
her temple, sacred to all cynical teenagers
her temples, soldiers bounding from the barracks.
whittling war cries and humming to themselves.
the crickets mumble a tune, familiar to many.
one, two, three.
one, two, three,
one, two, three.
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