On this gossamer trail, one wonders why there is any trajectory at all.
You startle me with all there is left in these caches of indifference and cerebral effusiveness. With red wine and walks to suffusion, I bypassed the conscious centrifuge of regulation and logical restraint. Watch as this settles like ash atop the sinew of my silence…just watch as it falls. The plane crashes and crashes hard…do they ever not?
This cannot continue.