We track the oblique, sly fireflies that keep popping fitfully by.
While life swarms invitingly by the side we remain rabidly hustling recklessly trailing those brusque cracking stars ...shifty, deceptive, volatile in onyx-bronze, raven nights
❋
We: the tenderfoot novice bulldozed on many a graceless trip half-cocked, peripheral, ****** and profoundly ill with pitiful
short-sight.
Afterwards, we will dolefully miss our unlived days and stay vainly entrenched in unskillful, effete ways to discard stiff hangovers and to naively refill famished days-before-today
with crackpot mirth and being oddly spry.
❋
Like an enduring remorse, life trickles aside bequeathing wounds that refuse to cicatrize. and now towards this passing eventide there is no volte-face no dice.