jumps over green garbage

  any hat to throw off

whittle any  need too speak 

its a joke played with Chinese

your buckets keep splashing 

the water just jumps for bodies 

its not like meeting you 

but the grass eats your garbage 

enter fishy in spreading 

but the raconteur might stay 

to tell stories of you 

which makes him stay at the station 

a whistle which you might have 

in your mouth 

when you hurriedly cover your your face 

to  meet the strings playing lowered 

how her eyes might see 

tastes she wears 

mushrooming inside her 

as she is about to see 

your touches and linen melting