Mother,
Do not touch my stuff
Do not move it
And do not tidy up.
As my possessions,
Touch imperfect,
Are bubbles to your touch.
Found is your touch.
Let’s make the ripper
Lost in the known.
Sunday, August 02, 2009
Boyish Messianic Complaints
Posted by Fareed at 6:33:00 AM
Labels: Snippets
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3 comments:
Messianic is moving in right derection, it is a gift!
The subtlety of any watchful vigil has always borne a promise. Eyes, however listless, search skywards for shriven nectar.
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