the wheels they spin
my only regret is not smelling more pedals. the kind that melt tangible things into necessary dreams of life and looks and stolen memories. im riding the crest of a glorious nostalgia that grips and whirls. angry and bitter then softened with refined blooms of shrugging imagery. the world is for open palms and delicate catastrophes.
transitions
i fell through an autumn rain
landing at the mercy of newly found buds of greening accuracy
what comes next?
my only regret is not smelling more pedals. the kind that melt tangible things into necessary dreams of life and looks and stolen memories. im riding the crest of a glorious nostalgia that grips and whirls. angry and bitter then softened with refined blooms of shrugging imagery. the world is for open palms and delicate catastrophes.
transitions
i fell through an autumn rain
landing at the mercy of newly found buds of greening accuracy
what comes next?