I made a castle on my own
with sand that you're not supposed
to touch, and help from Friend.
So bad at shaping regular dirt,
here's what it is :
what you dont expect of me.

And thus
Shaped alone,
somewhere in Somewherelese
where nowone could feel me breathe,
not a living thing can smell my bheat,
grew a thing i could not show
because it was Ridiculous.

The people asked to see my secret place
as soon as they saw my strange blue lips.
I was speaking from (not of)
a place that i wasn't ready to ****
Burning by trying to cut a peek.

: Jealousy, or maybe just curiosity
for that lingering perfume that had
now followed me.

They knew they saw The Cave
where i drew that blue tar from,
but they checked and saw they were wrong.
Because they cant even see her,
because shes not even from this island,
and she's a person, not a name ("The Cave").

Now. We are getting to the point.

Oh the pleasure of creating,
the pleasure of sharing existence,
the pleasure of secretness,
of timidity which time blossoms to
die and make place for something
totally different and unrecognizable
from the first formula.
From honey smell
to Honey,
from text to
Voice and Face.
ALL OF THIS IS FOR ME I ONLY WILL FIGURE IT OUT ITS ACTUALLY EVOLVING INTO SOMETHING QUITE HUMANE AND SANE IN TIME I MIGHT MAKE IT INTO SOMETHING WHO THE HELL KNOWS BUT THE MEHER;

.love from existing on another shore.
.a shore that was earned
.a shore that exists in reality
.a shore that has *******, a ****** no hair in bad parts
and is pretty and flat and hilly yet nice for all i can think
of for now.
.a shore that i learned to love only by
listening to it's every waves
. as shore that's also a cave,
a brook, a damp nook (to the grave diggers
and maggot fillers)
. a shore not swhore
. a thing i threw a flag on
(planting isnt what only counts)

up till now everything did fine,
up till now everything is doing fine,

it almost never happened,
im hoping this thing lives
that the shores stays happy
that she thinks of me.