| quiet - now! |
[13 Jan 2006|12:35am] |
the
words uttered on accident
shudder of their nakedness, meanwhile
the spectators groan
at the floating nature
of the syllables...really;
how are we to manage the thing
without taking it underneath
our will? expectation does
not promise anything, except that:
even hollow, moments' moving
goes not, whatever, toward
love. not hate, either, nor fear
or desire. so have it.
and nevermind the melancholy
and the cats meowing and mine...
one, however, shall prevail, finally
at the benefit of life. going
never tasted too good or so
absolute and - yes; the now,
fond of us, packs its fists
and heads on home.
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[13 Jan 2006|03:22pm] |
the mood is
linear and my hands need
something i havent.
yes yet is or as
thus of now
but then...what
words have is only
hardly!
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