Settled on my side but move to look up
Parry the stars with a sense of earthly touch
Common traits and the paper has similar stains
- Will the dream be enough
Can I escape back and will it be enough?
It’s a swirl of feelings and actions like there was a glass jar of memories and visions swimming around and then someone just poked a hole in it and they mixed and came out.
Fold a cube over the sphere and see it trickle down lines of simple argyle. My smile is pattern of mine
Words like a shape, love like a ghost
- The history book soon fell in love with the reader. How cherished theses moments. The dance of experience. No one ever thought of the sentiment held open when seen and the longing felt when truth folded over itself. It was a beauty true in text. Comfort of phrases and time easily pieced together. The heart this book knew was found in the garden of thought and grove of curiosity.
- Circle of being pointed to apex of thought. A script playing an image through time. The mind the first medium, the word a mirror.
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