I've seen tomorrow & it's the same as the patchy glow of yesterday. The distant glow I was aiming towards turned out to be weak, washy, and thin. Though the days turned I had not grown an inch. What looked open had just closed up again.
We row & row.
We stay the same.
We're clutching oars.
We row & row
& reach distant shores the same as where we left & we're the same weaklings hesitating to give in.
there is only the grace of wind.
Monday, May 13, 2013
IT'S THE END OF THE WORLD AS WE KNOW IT (and i feel fine [it's time i had some time alone...]...)...
Dearest KINGS,
I think I just made the mix I've been trying to make
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