being drawn back unlike a bowstring but down and in as water finds the lowest
excuse me, i thought you were also the center of a fractal
shut my eyes and squeeze my demand, the point of a spear. what will happen.
if i stub my fucking toe it’s their fault so say i, and who could argue? you almost
something you need makes you its bitch, yes even as it isn’t coming, no when love stands you up & all the more sweet
may be too onerous a task for those not starving. lucky
root it out the tiny bit left that says someone’s in charge not you. don’t let it live
first fruits hardly a handful, the garden
shall we turn down the covers, crawl inside? find there a place that’s been waiting for us, a vortex of sorts
oh, and how it gets you these bastard assumptions, one or two commonalities
I will meet you in the open air, & pet your pony’s nose. You will be
Fieldwizards and firetops. Wobblybirds on snowflowers. Chilled milk and chowder for the little prince. Mothercake for mumbled thanks.
just listen the trees drink silly.. I work i work that day the not
you are guilty of failing to love and understand me, like a dog is guilty of failing to speak or use
if ever someone is my dearest ear who hears my truth as theirs