a thirst for the divine inspiration which is probably hidden in this coffee bean.
structure & form are reflective of meaning & function, so what does that make my body? what does that make my face?
other people's opinions are always teasing like they were brushes and the strands of my hair were days but the 80s are long gone and i've got bigger dogs to wrestle.
if you compare a strong mule to a peeping baby bird you've wrapped up the history of thought in two corrosive words.
i want fervently to have hope in my species. but i walk a path that weaves tight between compassion & contempt.
if structure & form are reflective of meaning & function, then i am trickling down with the fresh melted snow, pouring myself in a muddy stream filled with silver gold spirals that span the visible spectrum, elongating & growing forever