I don't write, I paint myself blind with words...diogenes herded...ignorance...gilded cages...filling up on beauty unleashed...free will's maddening fractures...eyes that need to smell to see...
April 26, 2011
fog steam mist spring rain still thunder bright green birth tween cracks flashes where memory turns a blind eye and feels its way in a glorious crawl trying to speed my erosion
Love this.
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