Even as a ghost,
I would be nervous,
As my insomnia is longer
Than any night.

I walked through a desert,
Until I got tired,
And now the desert is walking through me.

Will it be you,
Will it be me,
Will it be us?

Your home is an imperfection, that you adore, cherish and can't get away from.
The same goes for any true love.

A boy and a girl went out together,
By a good weather and by a bad weather,
Because they both wanted to be meteorologists.

I find your pecuniary longings
To be so overcoming that
you have become porcine in
your search for it. Wealth is not
some truffle that can be rooted
out of the ground or society.
You might do well to ruminate
on the profundity of this statement.
                 ljm

a car sped away,
darkness is falling on streets,
the thinking is creeping in.