The tip of your tongue

is beautiful, red and round --


Delicious candy.

I'm a little light-

headed, that's not good, although --


floating is lovely.

Late night in the Kitchen...
Looking towards my boiling pan...
Bustling bubbles of water
Which were steaming up the thin air.
I put the old Tea bag in —
Brewing down some thoughts—
I don't remember what they were.
Out in the black, out the window
I just kept staring to nowhere...
Nowhere forward in the pitch black.
Perhaps, moon took a break—
Hiding away — just in a snap.

Gleaming light in my life
Was yet to come—
Calming my unsettling thoughts—
With this caffeinated drink.
I noticed some subtle stir of wings —
The wings of pain
Sitting on that window pane.
What was it?
An old wise owl—
A story, a phrase it growled.
Move to perfection — to your grave.
a thought to ponder—
Undiscovered yet an enlightening game.

A story of a bland start
Reviving my dying hopes
of the missing moonlight.
Then the owl flew away—
I went back to my unknown ponderings—
That pitch black night.

In time by observation requirements of staff are to be silent in documenting the law.

This creates records on file in anonymity.

People exist in this capacity with ability to define parameters of law in observation over time.

As areas of places are observed
Study continues without announcing itself

These precise and other documented definitions are not available to be seen

A stilled time capsule of generations
As in a file
Continues in a controlled environment not disturbed.
As Law is made public
The disagreement pattern is incorporated

From the instance (a)
Generations

Branch in line with origin(instance)= branch of continuing time

Over time nothing changes
Only the law

In the controlled, allow
End of perception is allowed

Opinion does not exist
Technology is used to prove something supposedly

Civilian mirror level Intel allowance.

Protocol does not to be without profit outside of reach

How and why such statements exist is for diplomatic ties not to be worn

*******  get your prisoner together
Pick up the sun and tie it to your ******* and make it work

they never tried to understand others—
Yet demanded the world open-handed.

I suspect,
That isn't how things are done.

I know
the world's a weary sphere,
where cruelty thrives,
and injustice lingers.

but not all—
not everyone—
They are as shady as the rest.

some are beautiful—
As beautiful as white tulips.
Purified, innocent, lenient.
Soft in this world that eats its flesh.

Why do selfish people pluck the petals of white tulips?
Why do they color them red?
Why must white tulips' happiness last only for spring?

tell me—
It's a whole minute of bliss,
Is that enough for a human to live?

If I didn't love myself
So much
I'd love you the best
But you're gone
And you're
Not coming back
Just like the old string vest
A fashion choice
Some would scorn
An anachronism
But it was comfy
And it kept me warm

I took it off
At your behest.