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Unmmened
Lucky to possess a minute or two to breathe and observe this furtunate century with all of its unknown faces, arms tattooed numbers.
A photo, a remembrance of the old type of pain.
The one that questions your presence here and now.
Could do the calculation backward, of why souls on fire were dancing as war turned a techno party, guess that shooting makes the feet go, trip, tackle its original reason to……
„fußen“
Yeah, why not.
They fucked like rabbits, a shortage of babies, evolutionary needs met and some urges on the carpet, to lay down and whisper a secret in a lover´s patient ear;
When will life begin?
Last month’s cubbage was sufficient to put these tummies to sleep, just enough with a goodnight kiss of knowing that meaning also contains calories, for the heart to pump, a gut feeling lust, to remain dreaming all night.
With you in my arms.
Dark purple almost black painted these vowels and letters to be spreading seeds, we’re going to Sicily.
Wine tasting, and hell yeah swallowing the whole fucking thing.
Sold possessions and love at first sight encounters with statues head’s citing the lesson of a life time, an Italic bold font:
Beg your own pardon.
