Perpetual light never mixes to serve a rainbow worth real sadness. Sadness has a light of it's own, buried within the marble of a thunderbolt. A statement I believe today for various reasons, one being the loss of control and tightness in my chest from knowing the earth spins beneath me whether I'm still or on my way to save her.
each day I see this guy - on my way home from work. he's this odd young man, he wears a wife-beater, long shorts, bandana, but that's not the odd thing. . . . he dons a yellow snake with faint brownish spots around his neck. a fat snake, really long too. in his right hand, a leash, attached to a pit bull. they all seem to froth at the mouth. today he looked me right in the eye, even though I'm in my car making a right hand turn as speedy as possible. and I what I want is to get rid of that image. odd huh.
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