Be that As it may The screen of media July 1, 2021 Leave a Comment Cancel Comment Name* Email* Website
Sun dresses blowing in the moon tresses. Buried in poetries' blesses. You are some kind of everything's guesses
You said what you felt in the moment. Thatβs honesty. Things change moment to moment. Thatβs truth
The waiting game / Is not the name of the rain // If the house is aflush in aflame /// The speed of light //// Is not the flight of the kite ///// If the house is asound asleep in the night ////// The sit tight, and hold steady /////// Is not the change of the breezy and ready //////// If the house is awash in awhale of confetti π
Supposing this perfect flower grows, what good is it, if nobody looks at it, loves it, visits it, smells it, picks it, shares it, dries it, sews it into a wreath, hangs it on a wall for thirty years, and throws it back into the garden when it crumbles into brittle dust once it finally turns
Colourful, dreamless truth, loves, white lies, snow lies, fuchsia lies, mint lies, burgundy lies, velvet lies, peach lies, cerulean lies, dark midnight blue lies, translucent lies, silver mountain traincar lies, and self-certified impenetrable lies. These illuminations of its boundless, voidless, thrilling, capacities to dispel, without ever lifting a finger in focus
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