pulsing:

we bite and we sip

we skip (class)

hands bound tight like hardcover books

we slip

through the cracks of the cold concrete,

(you are thin and i'm just paper)

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we kiss and peck

lie and wait

hands bound tight

like ballerina slipper ties

we slip

and fall and tumble

always landing on our bums but we always win

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pulsing, we jump hurdles in everyday life.

one battle after the next, but we always win