harvest this moment
who's capacity has roots perceiving
color with nonlinear sound
i can hear monk play
it's time to come to our senses
immersed with a smell of bird and dizzy
associated with delicate shape
her thighs cross naturally with pleasure
what brings the body entirely alive
both weariness and it's refreshment
are sweet
identity in a superficial talkative time
all anxiety washing out
and entirely silent
touch
the hat's and glasses
of the eye
No comments:
Post a Comment