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Stepping out of LAX The breeze pecks your skin Mismatched pavement prickled by potholes carpet magnificent mini malls Ugly urban sprawl becomes a soft bear hug. Wrapped in tinfoil and paper plates.
The sirens are heard coming from without these four walls which enclose me. And all I can think about right now is Tacos, it is Tuesday. It could be that those sirens I've heard belong to an ambulance
When I was younger, I used to think guys Needed to make me smile I thought boys completed empty parts Parts that first became bruised
I will not do it.
Tacos are the bomb! When I eat them I go Nom Nom Nom! Tacos speak to me, They say don't eat me. I can eat a life time suppy of Tacos because I don't like nachos.