the very idea that i could be
being drawn back unlike a bowstring but down and in as water finds the lowest
nobody goes mad on purpose, also never is it not shared,
we go walking around walking all over this town nothing ever getting us down cause we’re just a couple of clown…
there are never really any angels in god’s company, it really just pretends them
you are guilty of failing to love and understand me, like a dog is guilty of failing to speak or use
when (finally) we meet I’m thinking spring wildflowers will bloom on high
if ever someone is my dearest ear who hears my truth as theirs
I will meet you in the open air, & pet your pony’s nose. You will be
of course it is not about you. you have to know this, like baby birds know worms come with mother’s return,
oh, and how it gets you these bastard assumptions, one or two commonalities
reflecting on the moment before, would be useful only were it not already perfect.
webwomb’s not the maker of me. came into it as falling is done. down, only always
just listen the trees drink silly.. I work i work that day the not
i love you for the doubt you show me still possible in this body where you show me