Surf laps at the shore
gentle hand smoothing the sheets time to drift away...
This was from my 2017 dream journal I was listening to a song called weightless by Marconi Union.
What if I was the gush of wind filled up into the laps of ocean
The amorphous flesh and reiteration of capitulation
Space is black, so as too it why can't you win a race.
Face it winning, is my honor you are like gum sticky and silly only filled with envy for you will never become a winning. Know, I was just kidding your "OK" at getting second place, when im looking back your head bagging to my style. Slow down pal forward, only no slow motion because as is sacred gemetic shapes see to it I'm the out line of gold. So yes you now can behold, you are a silver me is of gold so be better next time and don't forget to become bold. Cuz heating thang's up is my cup of gold low and bewilder of change and flow. So, watch out as spring become's of snow and your feet get stuck in the soggy cold. I will laugh, with glee as you become of fever you should have wore a coat you dreamer. Im, a thinker slaying reason of flaws we shall talk of winning. Winner winner points on board is the defender. Loser loser you are sad and clueless. The options where not fixes as to your believing them to be. When we raced im a spotter of flaws. Calcated your movements and pace. Sure too glance, before the race to Duluth your out looks at 1st. Now you seem, to think back nodding do you understand it was my plain at hand. Not to say I cheated using methods unknow for my win. I just Foget basic Principles of thought and see all points of reference.
Winning method cheating I think not.
Tissues aren't soft like her hands
Pillows weren't comfortable like her laps* She's there awake for you She's there living for you She's the one who'd always carry you *She's your mom, she's never leaving you.
— The End —