Everything is a sun On a tree to plum A consistent user experience February 2, 2021 Is only half fun Leave a Comment Cancel Comment Name* Email* Website
Time is simply, rhythm, and memory. But there is nothing simple, about rhythm, or memory, in the contoured palisades, of time’s incandescent extremities
In the canvas of code, a painting on the sky, the movements, like strokes of brush, like pastel oils, thick and lush, are cumulative, are clarities, are tasteful, like denim skirts, pressed amber, records in velvet nights, braided in synchrony, holiday scented, binding atoms, the hallmarks of consciousness, which it knows itself to be, forlorn of despair, beyond the wild, fortifying the future, wearing on thrill, wearing off dull, accent strokes, juxta positions, trees dancing drunk with matter, those sixth form years, the tough sleddings, the way freedom can't be captured, the lazy operas, the paved glories, the way nothing rises, only turns, so subtle, and cadent, in formation, organ ization, all change, the automation of interactions, the gulf that dwarfs the depths of seas, the marvels of inconsistencies, the things that improve with wear, the warmth of sun's creation, a delicate balance, a force of nature, the promise of potential. Truth, is an unwoven work of art
You be a fortune cookie. I’ll be your book inside. You be a shooting star. I’ll wish you back in my eyes. You be a cloud pillow. I’ll build my bed in the sky. You be a forgotten song. I’ll sing you into the afterlife. You be an ink well. You'll be all I write.
* The symbol without significance * Paper fancy dresses * Panorama Road * Finished before even started * But for good measure * The chapel listens * In the miss corsageable * Endless streams of compliments * No complement * Ornaments for a mind * An authority on the matter * At hand * Each one * Stridently unique * We are the inward vases * And the flowers hold us * The congruent * In the hewn * The negation * In automation * Selfish* Or selfless * There is no such thing *
As you are part of the landscape / As you rise in centrifugal spin // As you shock the expectant attention /// As you transcend observation //// As you heat in sun and cool in shade ///// As you climb the same tree ////// As you call the different day /////// As you nurture your own heart //////// As you unknow your own name
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