carrying the happiness of
the world
deliver some good to me
cant stop thinking about
them
so extraordinary,
beautiful and needed
i’ve heard someone
quoting a non-existing figure
saying that bravity is the
soul of wit
and if so, then everything
is just right the way it appears
there is nothing to fight
against nor to fight about
i can see the seeds
falling onto such fertile ground
no fields of bred emotions
spread by the mass production
but some pure devotion,
dreams grown of fruitful illusions
a morning bug thrown
outta window found a place to die at last
wasn’t much
of an intention unless that’s how it turned out
sweet, sweet apples full of tasty
juice
ommitted by omission
itself, the humility’s daughter
and a young spring of every man she’d
ever met
waiting, wishing for some better days
or just a place of endless grace
where greed is of no use at all and
it’s highly understood as default
hey there, almighty sun, open your
womb, don’t let us moan
a prayer, no discussion, no small talk
that’s what comes up and comes out so
loud
a desirable state of mind to get
dressed in
a perfect suit for what I’ve been
messed with
changing rooms of adolescence won’t
make much sense
sequencies of consequence bullying the
counscious fence
as we dance with the flow of the wind
by which we’re blown
away and anywhere
