Thursday, September 25, 2008


Your hollow words are symbolizing grace between both worlds. The parallel galaxies are dancing in golden dust. Green shadows flew through our minds as the butterflies raptured around you and the flowers watched the lizards scaling. This is rock and roll who's slamming me right in the face like thousands icecubes at once. The spit from your mouth is creating a perfect bow with and imaginary arrow. Equal sharing of experimental thoughts and bouncing heartbeats are reflecting my every day. Your eyes are rotating once again as I groan. The curtains covered the white light made of liquid. A rawboned old lady had a knife and used it by chop two holes in that total dark area behind the moon.

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