for there is a moon
climbing up arrow
see what you always thought
rump of feet … sit while standing
heels dig … into gravity and breakers
room splits … until you’re too tired…
for there is a moon
climbing up arrow
see what you always thought
rump of feet … sit while standing
heels dig … into gravity and breakers
room splits … until you’re too tired…
If you paint for me even one thing which is true, perhaps I’ll be tempted to consider two. I tell tales poetically, someone else needs to set them to music.