over
a mere walk leading to the kitchen, I spark a cigarette. mental balance or
chasing leaves so debated by others. a bit morose a little melancholic,
something in the waves. a voice for many, belief for others, or
mind-disposition. I wonder more concerning interior according to what we feed
ourselves. the best of quality at so much to breathe while 5p.m. means trying
to relax. maybe a drive home or feelings catching up with miracles to love. a
harp amid the temple a phone walking into clarity or a dungeon asking for
mercy.
something like a wall or a dam, but
water is getting through. a fever those days. it’s quite incredible. we don’t
but we do, as understanding what we’re learning.
at a pivot or years at studies while
one becomes different. many platitudes, most week days, even a few at home. a
beer for Suzie, even a cigar, we find a bit of comfort.
some are altered or overloaded with
breath for adventure; by tension as measuring resistance – those secrets we
share. letting go, if but it’s true, while time knows our anguish.
I’m looking at a blanket gazing by a
mirror the floor has dust bunnies. I’m not laughing. it’s been a little time.
but I shall make it a point; for this becomes life, as most intentional, while
we adore spontaneity. so millennial where we ask about love – or marketing joys
to our consciouses.
metal for personality, or melting
for souls, while most thoughts are reviewed. but alchemy or stitching so much
fabric. as souls leaping or minds on Resurrection, so much a fan of my
projections. a feeling in a soul a mind in sorrow or holding to something like
dying for it.
often with reluctance or often an
old song with something – I must ask, should one carry a laughing box? too much
to be unreal or a problem we discuss while too sad to stay home.
a meal too many a drink too soft or
instruction quite internal. as this is the goal, as agents in this wilderness,
while loving a person might come easily.
