I can't always know if I know.

Point of reference.

A point.

A contact killer. Sweetness.

I can only run so fast. only so.

Which I suppose better be in my favor.

Bullets, Bears, and Bi-Planes will always gain too easy.

But the sweet.

the sweet is a different kind of lassoed love.

GET OUT.

no.

yes.

gosh. I can't handle the sides of most things tectonic.

Against you there's little chance of survival.

You know that both doves and darts have wings.

But a kiss that flies at me both coos and stings.

Twisting like the words of an ancient law book. As a letter fades into the dirt. breaking apart with moisture. Ink mixing with the minerals. dripping syrupy scents of the frantic, granite coils. Symbiotic themes of rebirth. She wants to see. She wants to sink in. To sink. To find. To end.

to end.

to.

thank you for understanding. at least the madness. not everything else. That's the best for now.