shut my eyes and squeeze my demand, the point of a spear.  what will happen.

excuse me, i thought you were also the center of a fractal

of course it is not about you. you have to know this, like baby birds know worms come with mother’s return,

there are never really any angels in god’s company, it really just pretends them

yeah, the contract the social one, so long ago supposedly agreed to, we were born instead into. what

liking to say things, all kinds of things, mostly about the way things seem

if ever someone is my dearest ear who hears my truth as theirs

this being we are, delights in all things, yes but is held breathless

of the things that make me become better only music is unlike surgery

man, it’s hard to come down from impossible hopes seemingly