From the first kiss, this twist of how I fuel the resistance. A distance of rhyme traveled in time, yet ravelled up the climb to the mountaintop. I know I must forever stop.
A drop … A point of blue … The severance from what is false to be True.
I cannot understand the ideas of some who renew the cue to find the correlations of You.
I do add a tad bit of their wares into how the pairs share the cares, yet wearing the socks we find some secrets of the fox. “You don’t have to be a Mox to be True”
Maybe the Underground Sea does correlate with you? I still want to shoo away the day and find the seeds of tomorrow. “Never lend… Never borrow.”
Even if briefly told that they hold the tears of forgotten fears, the idea clears into the text. Though the next day has been lived even a decade from now, the ideas of the crow also remind the crumbs for the pigeons is also an idea to grow.
I don’t yet know. You do.
I thank the forces of all things that have and will bee as the silent E’s find the Jets CDs as Ruby’s in the meld of what had been told from yesterday’s weld.
I thank all three of you for bliss, and remind the wires, that the spires rotate around the cortex, even if there IS not context to this.
Love, Light, Luck, and Life….