6th September 2009
Fantastic paths. Pass shifts. Throw through the air, catch in the breath, in the wind. Pass our selves. Pass strangers on. Fanatic paths, zealous shifts. Come to terms and sweep across pastures.
Floozy. Transitive. Transliteral. Come from the end of the rope. Wrap the rope. Deflate and tell the story.
Ramp up and amplify and vibe on the message. Grant me this lapse of propriety.
Dictate all. Words are openings. Worlds and landscapes and washes of colour and floods of the unknown and known.
Bend temperament and conceive of our relationship in contrast, in opposition, and in flagrante delicto.
I am your equator and spin spin all the way around. Take hold while we wrap, and the landmarks and feature points will spin too. Orbits align and falling stars crash on down.
Thawed out and laid to bare.