Just lots and lots of music, forever.
And colours and wind.
Temperatureless wind.
Soaking all my evaporations.
Balancing every tone.
Pulling teeth from my zen like rotten Maltesers.
Upset so your bones show - rabid.
Silence over silence, piercing, flatlining,
Frantic.
There is no writing for here so we change it when our bodies change.
of course.
Wednesday, 25 May 2011
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)

No comments:
Post a Comment