He so said his byes slowly. Something danced in the wild squally wind, And with her inborn reflex she was the first to leave. But my, how she hated watching the scene.
But I've always thought Everybody is an island. Frequented by storms, Immersed in a sea Of aesthetic mentation. & when you explore me, I should be grateful.
And we're some clueless truth dancing in the light of the night, bribing our own imaginations for fear, while believing in that cold hug of pity, –that tale, that we can be our own suns.
