literature

'instance,

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Literature Text

minutes, hours
weekends, months

won't keep me from it.
God thinks he knows, but he doesn't know
what he himself hides.

A future dream potential plight,

all the same, blend into one on our larger than life scale.

my love is another death, in the next life,
a puddle, and the ink,
just,
bleeds,
off the page.

although today I tire,
today you will see my strong arm rip through all matter
with a sailing arc.

I sleep, trying to think of everything at once.
.
© 2012 - 2024 TheCharacter-K
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