THE PRECIOUS terror is realizing most adults are dead children or like a day that folds itself into a basket of reborn night.

That long-necked geese and stiff necks are either pretending giraffes or self consumed souls; ignoring the mirror reflecting thoughts, introspection devours its own mouth.

Surrealism is hickey upon my heart that bests freezer burn sunlight any now. Kiss me you brilliant stupid fool.

:: 08-30-2018 ::

About EPRobles

Writer, Artist. I like to paint abstract acrylic images onto canvas. I love to read everything, and I especially enjoy science, philosophy, and the arts. I'm new to the blog experience and I very much enjoy it! I hope to learn as much about all the features that WordPress offers and thank you -- my visitor -- for taking time to read my words. Peace and love... View all posts by EPRobles

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