We strive for beauty and balance, the sensual over the sentimental.
And if there is no god? You act as if there is, and it's the same thing.
We have no home, she told me. I am your home.
She should think about her own soul, what she was going to do with this funky tattered pond dank item. Dark and stained, a ruined thing.
Their love as a dragonfly, skimming over echo park, stoppin to visit the lotus. Eating dreams and drinking blue sky.
this was the wonderful thing about strangers. they were big blank pieces of paper, you could draw watever you like on their impresionable surfaces