I like how you listen. It shows through the aether.
When I look out my window, I can almost see your city. But you are swallowed up in it, so I can't see you. But I see you here.
The slowness with which I think is perfect for this medium. If I saw you in person it would be too fast.
Poor poetry composed on the spur of the moment Intended to relieve my feelings. Silly songs written at the height of my musings Requiring no pressures of thinking.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
The Sacred Moon
A white square is perfect.
Anything might fill it,
But it is nicer to see it empty.
Not possible to keep it white though.
Eventually it gets dirty, or fills up.
Then you have to cross out the clutter,
Give it some more potential.
Eventually there gets to be just the right amount of white square.
As long as you keep emptying it.
Anything might fill it,
But it is nicer to see it empty.
Not possible to keep it white though.
Eventually it gets dirty, or fills up.
Then you have to cross out the clutter,
Give it some more potential.
Eventually there gets to be just the right amount of white square.
As long as you keep emptying it.
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