26 Feb Becoming Yourself
You've got flowers and sword fights An oceanic conglomeration Of things changing And ever changing. A fever, A sickness, Depression. It ails And heartache that triumphs. Regenerates silk, Spilt soil fertilizes the garden. Golden tendrils sneak into the atmosphere, Curling and looping, Connecting, Like wires on a telephone line to your call five hundred miles away. To your call, To your call...