terminal haste

jockey hardline mist pewter scaberry

thirsting like drunken 3am blighted recourse - be damned be dimmed haven't there been those proper haven't there been those lick salting begone. I have a general sense of things, but the feeling is diminished when specular when specific to situation.

telling those retail observations to conform to relate in space to what I feel now is possibly and eternally cloistered where nothing has meaning and motion, right? Often because of the amount and volume of copy, of verbiage, of media and waste I can not reconcile the the meaning and relate that to another living soul, shit jack - everything becomes a cage, everything heals and hurts when one gets right down to it. It all depends on where yer standing jack where yer soaking in it.

obviously winking like that to the sun will make you blind, but how many times can it be done? how many times do those flames lick your eyes with near perfect love and desire before nothing can lick any longer for evermore.

heat I feel heat I need heat I hold it in me as close as life as close as sweat. like my skin crawls in a circle and when the apex curls against the broad line, when the particle of begining touches the end for that brief, swift moment no words will do - you know it too - no words will do no matter how many drunken accidents and carriage collisions take you away, you can live in the arctic and I will still see you today.... if I want to.

I will break this too, you know it's true and when I do when I do the balance comes to my room. I can be under covers and beneath silk or plastic all sweaty and pungeant and ridiculous and still it will come it will beat and shear and stomp this possible fever from my head and my last remaining gasp and laughingly I will follow useless in the grasp. You know that too, but never had words to show it. did I hole=d it against you, never never as a swan could never beat a child of light and that horse run without stumble without fall dropping leaves like today when the time rolls back my dreams all my dreams of apocalypse where I am the star. Here are these prayers to all of my friends, cause no words will ever demand the same incantation, please take them and know I often dwell on your face but maybe not the name, again thats just a word.

Ever to you all, really watching super feeling nasty breathing and your breath and those lights when pointed and you stumbled and I caught. inside those everything moments, where your light shines brightest, you thank me with a shy sly smile and its really all i ever need.

Pragmatist is that joint is that point where I stopped learning and just listened, and it's for you.

listen to it here.

are this now enaught?

than thanks will never be enough