the moon rattles like a fragment of angry candy
things which in my mind blossom will stumble beneath a clumsiest disguise appear capable of fragility and indecision
Because you aren't afraid to kiss the dirt (and consequently dare to climb the sky)
Now the ears of my ears awake and now the eyes of my eyes are opened.
The sensual mysticism of entire vertical being.
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses