All trees are oaks and all birds are blue. From the mountains of a magnet and the mountains of you. I'm proud of my genius just like a painter, and dumb like a poet. I think you can just say it from the throats of our wrists with full sets of teeth. Vanilla almond teeth, vanilla almond tea. Spent afternoons measuring time in spoons. Where forget-me-nots and marigolds and other things that don't get old just don't get old. But between one June and September, you're all I remember. And I'm a lantern, my head a moon, I married a room. All trees are oaks and all birds are blue, ach du. What's 80 miles in Canada or 18 years in mountain time? [bad word] for a late longing to drink. All trees are oaks and all birds are blue. Ach du, I thought everyone was you. I'll keep my hands in order, but what about the air lying awake?