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 ::