Jun 19
°•[𝕋𝔼𝔼𝕋ℍ 🦷]•°
“I met an artist yesterday,
Arthur was his name.
Owned a bookstore down mockingbird lane.
He said he'd show me many things
And mold me like clay.
I didn't know what to think, didn't know what to expect
When he pulled me into a canvas.
My dress is still red.
We'd drink wine, the rice was snow white.
I didn’t want to oppose him, that wouldn't be right.
My teeth got a good running start, always ahead.
We ate frosted cupcakes that tasted like white bread.
But Arthur, did I tell you?
Will you hiss?
I can't eat rice with my teeth like this”.