your handtouching mine.this is howgalaxiescollide.
your handtouching mine.this is howgalaxiescollide.
The rules of life are nothing that cannot be fixed.
They blossomed, they did not talk about blossoming.
When I/Don’t know/What to say,/Let me/Listen.
Poetry keeps mein a highly drunken stateof divinity.
You don’t know anything, but I know even less.
all the wordsall the poems know my warm, soft spots.
Imperfection is my ticket, perfection is my pursuit.
He thought others were small; that was his greatness.
Little,It is a small measureBut can you measure love?