Becoming you,
I perceive your face...
The six minute run
on the beach...
Such were the times.
You wanted to become sane...
The intrigues, the twists
unravel the woven threads...
Had I but a brush to paint all the world
capture each moment and every twist...
In yonder meadow flowers bloom
cascading hues and sweet perfume...
What was the
secret of the path...
Seems every tree has decided to attack;
pollen drifts like yellow powder grenades...
Incubation was not
complete. The thirst of...
In the waning moon
you were talking...
.
Sunbeams warm a fairy's gift, that...
How age slips away
from your hands...