almost throwing a cast of liquid gold and diamonds across the evening sky, and it stirs in the air with a graceful suspense and intoxicated, smouldering pink. thoughts a monologue in their own right, seamless neverending
this week i exceeded a threshold that was coming a long time. love eludes me, yet only a few steps at a time. it wouldn’t look so good if you can’t see the left in your wake
i left a few people but there wasn’t a wake. not going to battle tiredness today i will embrace the sleep, and that’s the extent of what i’m going to take. there are so many wonderful things that are there for me to take, but i’ve still got so much left to give
george michael was looking for fast love, but i would settle for an imagination. perhaps maybe the only intoxicating thing in the world is the anticipation of mind. it can take the one thing that would completely fold you over, and make that same sentiment the only thing in the next few hours worth doing while you sit there and go quiet even if only to catch your breath or collect your thoughts, with the one person whose emotions seem to carry invariably through the amphibious chain of people, straight into the thought-dismantling, inner-sensitive motion when those love hearts and dollar signs roll your eyes back there where you will stay until with its hands you can feel your ego being so elegantly, confident, and by gentle hands, unmade
it always comes down to that, in some manner of speaking or another. trust. are you really ready to trust that light, that surrounds you like the very heart of the sun? this such a bright thing of everlasting muse of mine, so bright too that it sleights your mind away from the other celestial paradise, beckoning you toward the sweet conflict, refreshing, abrasive, unbearable, unimaginable, insatiable. inside.
things go from one extreme or the other, to another. inside that cold and calculating, enchanted, heart that goes on ever giving, inside.
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