Your face is familiar to me.
This light before has played along your contours.
This air has molded to your voice.

Your shadows are reflections,
And your echoes are embedded
In my stone.
In our stone.

Why is the bottom always there?
Climb or jump, or flee in terror.

It rises with me and within,
and compels me to ascend.

Forty years, the tower rise—
Just a plaque that says, “Here lies...

Human, tyrant, coward, sleeper.
Only fear is digging deeper.

...another ideal to be fulfilled.
There is no vessel without intent.
I'm pretty sure a lake holds water.

Ah with each new thing i see
a fresh surcease of novelty
Passion led me to the end...
again again again again

sleep and dream of sugar plum dumplings and dripping ******* dangling to suckle with your pursed mouth in a perfect “Euuuooo”.

what troubles you, o perfect man? cause man you are; and man you are a ****,

and also the president.

Hey!
I did not mean to startle
       you so clearly armed.

I only wished to say,
“Hey! Hello. Don’t shoot me.
                Do you think it will rain today?"