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There's a house where the world has stopped dialing... But a rotary phone, that has my number. and plunders my unavailable daily. We blink like opening a mystery. But we never  brush the canvas of any inspiration. we gather in the fields of our golden jokes and each the other are about how nothing is the same that now we see what eyes deny jellyfish and cotton swabs. but there's trees and eggs. it's nothing how we remember love and hate. slow things are voices to recall. but the matter of their wisdom is bleach and peaches. and perhaps a flightless squab. II to endure is to be a living thing. and to love is to die more willingly. but nothing procures the reality like a dream.... and we cluster precisely where we diffuse Unkindly. III Let us walk where the treasures march in impoverished enmity. but know the different things that sanity conspires to reveal. we can be madcap and foreign to our native selves - but never once be alien to what it means in hell. IV heaven is a kind of grace that forgets you. and trees and eggs are something else entirely despite you.
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Jan 6, 2016
Jan 6, 2016 at 11:50 PM UTC
Trees And Eggs
There's a house where the world has stopped dialing... But a rotary phone, that has my number. and plunders my unavailable daily. We blink like opening a mystery. But we never  brush the canvas of any inspiration. we gather in the fields of our golden jokes and each the other are about how nothing is the same that now we see what eyes deny jellyfish and cotton swabs. but there's trees and eggs. it's nothing how we remember love and hate. slow things are voices to recall. but the matter of their wisdom is bleach and peaches. and perhaps a flightless squab. II to endure is to be a living thing. and to love is to die more willingly. but nothing procures the reality like a dream.... and we cluster precisely where we diffuse Unkindly. III Let us walk where the treasures march in impoverished enmity. but know the different things that sanity conspires to reveal. we can be madcap and foreign to our native selves - but never once be alien to what it means in hell. IV heaven is a kind of grace that forgets you. and trees and eggs are something else entirely despite you.
third-eye-candy
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third-eye-candy
M/American
Jan 6, 2016
Jan 6, 2016 at 11:50 PM UTC
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