Climbing several flights, looking for my own outward impression moving about among the portraits of a some pivotal stratum of your becoming, probably couldn't find it, how thoroughly to this distraction of selfhood we've amounted and I know a phrase to retire
between us all perhaps a sheer cliff, a woven fabric the distance between my eyes, what yours must see a vastness I took for granted every time I attempted language feeble and dispassionate, as an accent I received in return in exchange for something evidently unscalable, unscalable
a week of waking up at 3am, feels like what my body prefers
thieves of memory
bastionlike and singularly monolithic drape of a fall with an inaccessible plateau, on which an amaranthine mirror and chair, comparatively inconsequential in size, face outward
contours of an ensembled intention
rWish u the best energy as much as you ever will need. World is tiring but sourceful enough for something small enough like you and me