If I told you, you had a destiny, what would you say? If I showed you, you had a path, would you see the way?
Can you hear the song of the raindrops in the streetlight’s sun? They cry out.
Symphonies are practiced cacophonies. What listener has poisoned their ears against the bass of precision. There is no question. Lingering on the page in black and white, their notes are a haunting memory. Messages were never bottled. Joys are their own ode. Noise begets noise begets noise. The wreckage is salvaged sensibility. The early fog is muted math. Everything is untitled. Salvation.
Can you smell the lingering of liquid dreams in the morning? They drift alone.
Garbage is a familiar bouquet. Where those subtle platforms take us, we leap. Gasping for the last of meaningful breath, signatures remain to distract. Cages of surrender are made by stifling scents. The rose has no more deadly thorn. Smoke follows fire. Perfume is never natural. Masks always smell the same. Heaven is a dreamless night. Hell is a sleepless one. Daydreams exist.
Can you taste the flavour of the afternoon wind? It feeds heartily.
Intoxication is a natural state. How ripe with contradiction, the krafted cuisine. Pesticides, the natural construction of organic matter bent on mass destruction. Health lay between the delicate balance of a habit and a hand grenade. Banquets are served on bodies. Minds are the hottest ovens. Nothing burns at the right temperature. Grass is a delicacy of open palms. Good sex fills you up. Souls are inebriated by finger foods.
Can you be moved by the expression of my soul?
Expression wants you. Existence wafts around the corner, to the tune of a turning world. Look to the reflection of transparent windows. The road not taken tastes sublime. When will you feel your arms stretch out? In the moments between here and there is eternity. The gods sit powerless. Happiness waits.
Mercury is the world’s tear. Do not weep.
- Z
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