Lost that phone

 The grassy mounds
Outdoor exercise
The phone drops
advice falls too
We go looking for things
where they don´t exist

The young peep
They see into your perversion
the guts your stomach doesn´t want to hide
Whispers sticky webs fixes suspicious eyes
The uncontrolled giggle
Your own fears of being exposed

Your possessions and their value
send you reeling across the ground
looking in that ankle high grass
for those pieces of black plastic
That define who you are
That plug you into a chance toward destiny