On the road

(driving: )

"Maybe it's a crooked mistery but I'm not sure why because clouds don't say:

how can this work when muddy grounds shake
and instructions are part of the wind blowing

(and no, it doesn't fit, it's a thread)

But the crack is so wide, and we're falling.
One like you, blueeyed, is to be longed.
But he just won't see, he won't feel.

Or, maybe time is not one to be seen, but to be thought of.

Oh, we're building. Excessively."

Bearhug

Deaf tone___________________________________________________

_______________________________________________________With
white spit on the ground ;;;;;;;;; !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

It's meant to b
e

s
tic
ky

Most proud of contact -o-o-o-o-o ppppuuurreee tennnnnnssionnnnnnnn

((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((Ground on tongue > see >
Licking. Stiff . . . . . ..... . . . . . ...w.....

Reach out widearmed fullbodied and touch again, undo. Again, undo. A-

And spitting, slowly. (you live where my ancestors lived and some still do)
Making bubbles. Send
them
o-.ver ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^(open)^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

That's desire. /on/ think think think take advantage think think

Scrapping the ground off. ROUGHLY - roughly.


That was
after the bearhug // jkljkljkljkljkljkljkljkljkljkljkljlkljljkljkljkljkljkljkljkljkl

Left you : the same
Left me, --->----->------->--------->------------> explode(me

visibly shocked / hooked. (Can bear with it. CAN) ,,,,,all

God forbid I think otherwise @@@@@@@@I@@don't@@@@@@@@

(think otherwise)

Seek me, WOULD you?,,,,,, (blend____________fold__a world)

(seek me, would you?)


(spit) (;)ççççççççççççççççççççççççççççççççççç))) 0 0 0 0 0 00 000

(that's desire)

(the same) --------------------------------´´´```------we share an alloy of who knows what

(hooked) -----&

Seek me though I didn't seek you at first.

beeeear-hug {carries me} . in arms of longing skin, of burnt one. In tradition, in commitment.

Can care. (;;;trash) :::::::::::::::::::don't:::::::but:please::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: beat it.

Love travels

It's most likely that love travels.
Through wind, yes,

and trees and fingers and hair and teeth.
Somehow it goes deeper than that.
It's a shape-shifter, a stubborn one, that just lingers there, and grows deep roots
and attaches.

And, with absence, comes coiling.

-

Love is a burden, violet.

Yet wings of time return with love carried, warmer. Openhanded, fullbellied.
And you fall, deeper.

Violet it's quite simple,
once you get ahold of it.

Try.
It may take any form.
Embrace it.

Change from eyes and smile to hands and voice or voice to mouth and legs or feet.

And build.

Like ice being sculpted




and melting.

Comfort

Comfort is when I quote you
Comfort is leaving home
Comfort is traveling
Comfort is hearing sounds
Comfort is silence



Don't scream but hide in a shell.

Hair Comber

metal -- wood

metal -- wood

metal
and


wood.

Ring

the doorbell

and I
will

get it.

Step

and step,

and once more.


Come
on, sing

along.

Wood and
wood
and metal
and wood.


and do it alright
but never move.
don't, dear.
keep your hair
sweetly combed.

Therefore

It is



quite funny
to think
and look back,

Who knows if it's
the right step?

The answer

may lie in trees

or in your hair.
Or elsewhere.

Let it be.




It is

good

to know
there's still a sane mind out there

that waits or seeks and haunts, maybe.



It is

quite rewarding
to smile

and never think
about

the rest.



Therefore I smile.

Sample

dare you to
peer into a cauldron
and take a sample
of ooze
and
then
see it
for yourself

-

and
the
turmoil keeps
building
up
like a
stack
of cards
raising
more


and more

-

long you,
perhaps less
but
still
when did
this
happen?

-

maybe one day
we will know
or






not.