but i do remember everything, defiantly. cruelly the main way to know from up or down in avalanching flood
and i would never allow it to be about my want, a dust mote's want. i'd lay down as a boardwalk over the hole in the ground, if it meant to know a people more than my self; a meaningless little thing crushed into a shape by some confused and luxurious crisis of a malevolent house of mirrors how decadent to stare back at ourselves through something shattered and polished with our blood! it's an age-old way to know nothing
brief and sudden rainfall turned our rooms a gentle ocean's green, i swear i smell the sea in wind the days i try in little sharded shells of sleep and pangs from a weighing sky when i spend time to speak a firefly's amount i've left over
thank you
!gorgeous
a multifunnel spilled us down here you are a fellow trace, it's no surprise to have met and to have magnetized is a lyricism explained away by a metallurgy, recent enough you see, it wasn't that we even had disdain for sentiment (it was decided for us that our feelings were primitive) no, we just couldn't afford it with the ruins' stones
and then I thought about recollecting all our time, there's hope there, maybe even in trying to recall what might've already been drifted away in the lapping wakes. wings, spread out again!
the inessentiality and the floodlights still has us waking scattered in a hollow and what little consequence the difference between the floating points unverifiable and whatever furrowed dream we spill like dust - it doesn't land so expectedly