Sunday, July 29, 2007
...Intrepid and fearless to the infinite possibility of time assigned to play with
Confidence flowing in every syncopated emptiness they sanction.
The unstoppable ascension of music rises and rises
Like heat of mystical source in some all too familiar sauna.
It suffocates you a little,
But just a little,
And you just start sweating uncontrollably,
As if this world had the guts to make it
So even our skin cries when we feel beauty.
...but words will never hurt me; 9:36 PM.
