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While she walked past, the flowers took notes.
I drifted down her neck from across the street.
The weight on us is because of tomorrow.
Another story we shouldn't be used to
Stories built from life's autopsy
I reached deep, the depth finding surface.
Only the silly monsters laugh.
In my forest, how wicked the trees climb without leaves.
Her gentle words outpaced heaven
Too many people working against each other.
Enjoy life. No one knows what it is anyway. Maybe its just an illusion.
The tales of waves deeply underwater.
She spent the evening dissecting the cadavers of lost feelings.
A life lived where differences never lead to disagreements.
Few know that the Night was blinded by staring into the Sun.
Horizons never worry (thinking). What else can spring into ocean.
She was very interesting. She never talked about herself or others. I shook her paws. Then walked off. We both left, forever smiling.
Her beauty was born from her errors, like when the dawn is eaten by a storm cloud bloom.