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.

to strong

that day the water was saltier and the words more clear and the signs…equal

this day the water is still salty but of different origin.  There are no words and the signs…unbalanced.

what I needed was provided

what I need is unfounded

bus walk finds new men and lines of them
stars unfold in the dance and I'm swirled in the mist
(yes that style mist)
soft and cushy days away
and the hard stuff on the bottom shelf
                                               my shelf

the string unravels and the damage points mount a new cleft and the and never stop because they keep pouring through and over the cracks.




depart from me, quickly and before I do you damage.

Little point

I might as well just 

                                I haven't the time to caution 

The voices I hear there

       voice I hear here

                                      It's a series of choices I'm trying to make you see. Please be respectful of your potential.  You are devastating and it is such 

a good 

thing.

Half way

To come part way up, I'm still shocked at how my foolish can be used.  At every turn I beat head on bricks and then the walls built from them... Or walls and then the bricks they are built with...

You see!  Even there, this providence fills out.  What I'm not quite finding is this turn. This left one, because we can't be right. 

Right?

lists

like leaning…to fall over
my intention is faulty.

you can try but this
 is higher than I can reach
and this 5 minute timer keeps hitting its mark.


hot rice with shaved thin carrots
so sorry for the string of insults

the idea was not quite form fitted.


see you in the approaching.