

On ParabolaWith subatomic subtlety settling on his brow, he said 'Time's a broken arrow that points from then to now.' Once a grain, I entreated himOn Parabola
to stop this flow of sand, 'You're immersed in the irreversible until, entropical, I land.'
In that glass all is hours, the busted bucket and the spade, and each collapsing castle that our spilt ice cream made.
Since his hands are tide we can all be shore, when the sediment slides there is no more.
Your Craft 2
--
cellar door
--
Don't let your dreamers grow up to be dead men. Drown us at birth, save her some time. - Every Time I Die, "Floater"
--
Don't let your dreamers grow up to be dead men. Drown us at birth, save her some time. - Every Time I Die, "Floater"
--
If I'm not writing, I'm just sitting here changing oxygen into carbon dioxide. Like a baby. A little shit and piss factory, maybe one day a man. Be a man today, motherfucker.
psst. -> ~junkyardparamour new clothes. they fit nicely.
--
the trajectory hums.
No pomes, of late, have been written, but the process has started for a little proes. ^_^
--
Don't listen to me.
one may reconcile,
and look back through the smoke.
Still find embers in the pile,
but two rebuild a bridge
or two can leave it there that way.
One two to once again embrace,
two ones' to walk away.
--
"I've taken enough walks alone
to know how real nothing is."
~dystopian-dream-girl
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