It's the red heat I mean to capture in rivulets. My blood blues, too, fuzzy pink, Juliets.
Burn the whole palette and rethink your colors, the impressions you're under.
**** score-keeping, thus **** the goalkeepers. Life requires only earnest volition to hum to life.
I'm so happy to be right here now Light. Mirrors. Town. Poets 're comin' and how's giving time for paper where Time's scarce? Screens & buttons multiply.
Escape, expression, eleven-eleven, words and their meanings, intentions and speeches come running come screaming. Supposed to mention truth n' whatever I ever reckon to believe in. I know you can't recognize anything close to truth till you're sittin' in your inner world. And here one is, baby!