Eating cookies

To what degree do we maintain this March?

It's funny in the most frieghtening way.  I am butter both frozen and molten. With wings together, it's math getting pushed out in their faces.

Horned rims, unforeseen and well rounded. Two weeks time falls out of order.  What will be done if the vacuum persists? 

Decay threatens the door at every corner.

I stay the course.

full charge

What happened?
Gone off topic in life expression?
In over an hours time I did not check my cellular devise once.  Captivated by light, long, and curly.
Then to receive such gifts in the after math…
I find myself dwelling upon the best, blessed outcome.
I forgot i had a phone!
So I'll bounce these off the walls of another's brain with out care for the paint job.  It's not my responsibility.  This may be harsh, but I have to think of what's best for me. and guard myself and i'm moved by brevity, but not enough.  It's simply not enough for me to dig deeper.  I'll keep seeking and taking list, last, and crazzy.

I am elipses

What exactly is your endgame?
How does this help her and why am I the delivery boy?

And how is this helping you? why will you not fill in the cracks when you know I have already read the mail. You are one sided and self minded, but it seems not for the best!

And you are loved, but now from a distance. The adversarial nature of territorial espionage and spiritual sabotage, leaves me

With out place and choice i push forward because what was can not be.  No back tracks in this corn field.  No corn tracks in this back field. (but popcorn with track and field, What a snack!)

We can see the sputter now.  The minimal dots of dot dash nature are such that you need more time but less text.  I'll tack you as far as I can, but formatting will play with the target.

Dear ones, I due promise to help.
Will, you be helped?

flesh press

No

No, I will not be treated this way

The stone clouds approach, pressing in and I am a broken branch
A wingless bird and the second chance is breathless and quite distant. I don't dare.

I may be bitter herbs and thorn in hand, but I am not the salt in your water.
Why do you smash the cup? why is there feedback starting the speakers?

these stone clouds, they always win. He has already stepped in! lift your well lit eyes!
you can see with your own two! I thought my hand full of thorns so I dared not lend it, but you lean on rotten stumps.  NO

No, I will not let you treat me this way.

I approach stone clouds thorn free, and press out the bitter herbs.
I am not standing or forcing and I'm thankful.  Help comes from those I know who can.

These birds tell the truth with lit eyes, looking up and carrying whole branches. Second chances.

Breath!

Salt water rain only in taffy land and cups un-smashed.

I feel and the harsh curbs my execution, but I'll feel to the fullest.

I'll still be here when you get back, but I'll be older…and so will He.

New layer

It's a deeper layer that takes in the dye...

Fresh and topped up, but weeks early. Coloring made off by exposure.

Slink and just under the wire, micro signals broadcast on frequency and on point.

(Or jazz shoe, as the case may be)

Maybe cousins need longer hand shakes...maybe hands need larger milk shakes

There is this wave shape to the frequency

And they are crashing down on the bank of what is right behind me. 

While the ocean gives life, I'm in need of spring water further inland.

the one day clause

The hour followed her out of the room with her hyper color hair. She exhibits and inhabits beauty with exacting balance. Widely blinking out the need for more than water.  Minutes and seconds gather at her feet just to stand close.   They increase and are never enough for an approach. Becoming hours, they continue out of the room…wrapped up in her wake. Clocks dry up and wither so the seeds can be planted for when they can resume regular rotation.

(the curvature of the thought process bounces between those of you wanting clarity.)

Once again she found a key stroke to set the flames on a war path. Righteous weapons rightly given and safely posted dormant for the duration of the down time. My own wrath comes from this one day clause.  Cosmic ,maybe comic, -ly insufficient.  I'm laid waste to the under met kavod, and how pervasive it must be in every corner to keep the building standing.  I think she is safer outside...

Who want to have a high-rise happen upon them?

"Fading" or "Oh yes, but that was last month"

The salad was enough to carry...

The coat, the pockets are full of weighty     times

Smoke in her hair and beds to put together but so many miles are pouring into my heart that the room is already full and empty of the most important things 

Pace ripens as the harvest approaches and letters get missed and then miss placed.

A posting of the boarder variety

Because the magazine is an emptying clip.

News

I need more news of the corner and what's around it.