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

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

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

I just felt what I think I’ll feel always, once we’ve finally met, and share this cool space, like an open secr… It felt like all my favorite songs…

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

every story, especially those promising finally to grant the square hat with tassels, is a load of shit. the god which

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

a few hundred million dying days later he emerges into crazy

lie still. be quiet. please understand what happens so, next time

god is unwelcome in suburbia, the cells are too comfortable there, & love rests best under stars.

the center holds itself still that rockets believably may be seen exploding in all directions from somewhere vaguely

first fruits hardly a handful, the garden