Eyes Suffer Chains, The Lines of Demarcation an Evacuation in Sight. Alright. Comes Sashaying Sunlight.
Here I am. I tip-toe around life. Dodging eggshells and piles, mounds, mountains of mail. Return to sender, I but trying. No self, intention is not action.
I have moved. My mind to another space. And here I am. I do see, now, I lack rigid shape. That is OK. I see, now, thresholds are where I keep. Half in, half way... poof, so long. The ever-elastic soul. I am, not your figmented fragments of presumed imagination.
The many ripples, shimmers, shades, shatters: a dangerous reflection. A mirror mind of corrupt illustration.
So pious, noble, knowing glance cold. A simulacrum of prevarication.
I am this thing, being, something with feeling.
A mind, a thought, and smile I took. A file, a label: thousands of bills from shallow forsakers. My earth is a bounty of simple surrender. I am, I see, through the looking glass: breathing supple, sweet, sumptuous satisfaction.
Such a beautiful mess of me. My chaos like honey: arpeggio of harmony. I am
A heart, a slope, an intercept. An enduring shape, reject conform, perpetuating form.
Such peaces of everything, everywhere, a tide, a swirl, a spin, a whirlwind -- stuttering paper cranes.
Drifting among you. Inanimate intimacies, stammering wings of exquisite reminisce nostalgic soirée. A glorious remise of regal designed resign moldings from hands without articulation, be all defy circumscription.
Here I am. I tip-toe around life. Dodging eggshells and piles, mounds, mountains of mail. Return to sender, I but trying. No self, intention is not action.
I have moved. My mind to another space. And here I am. I do see, now, I lack rigid shape. That is OK. I see, now, thresholds are where I keep. Half in, half way... poof, so long. The ever-elastic soul. I am, not your figmented fragments of presumed imagination.
The many ripples, shimmers, shades, shatters: a dangerous reflection. A mirror mind of corrupt illustration.
So pious, noble, knowing glance cold. A simulacrum of prevarication.
I am this thing, being, something with feeling.
A mind, a thought, and smile I took. A file, a label: thousands of bills from shallow forsakers. My earth is a bounty of simple surrender. I am, I see, through the looking glass: breathing supple, sweet, sumptuous satisfaction.
Such a beautiful mess of me. My chaos like honey: arpeggio of harmony. I am
A heart, a slope, an intercept. An enduring shape, reject conform, perpetuating form.
Such peaces of everything, everywhere, a tide, a swirl, a spin, a whirlwind -- stuttering paper cranes.
Drifting among you. Inanimate intimacies, stammering wings of exquisite reminisce nostalgic soirée. A glorious remise of regal designed resign moldings from hands without articulation, be all defy circumscription.
You flatter me too kindly J. :-* I love (and miss) your sweet words of encouragement.