Nostalgia et Happiness

Bittersweet nostalgia stop time for me. Always? My facade. Cauterize this gash, meat hook sliced like no other. Grandiose. Fluid movements halted by the drop of the leaf, the fall. You can only wander so far. Brother. How can we do this? Where do we go? What do we do?...

Its all on you she said. Dashing, that's what I was afraid of. The mind is an entity. It puts on its own shoes. Strolled down the lake, mesmerizing. Ancient beauty draped in the shag of emptiness. Beauty reflected upon the crash of the cosmos, this primal lucidity is the key. Black as the mirror of the night, spit out the nautilus. A rash gesture one might ask. Blasphemy. Hands. Don't reach for me again. Don't drag me down. Leave me be. Cut the conjoining strands of the solitary. I am here now. Black

Writings for Lune

440 Moon Way
∞
outer space

Dextrous. The blood swells from the ventricles to the processor ov the behemoth. Dark figure, draped in white, smeared in ash and blood. A mere shadow reflected upon your mortal iris. Demigod. Purveyor of the depths, bring forth the swell. The tide we seek shall be gained upon the exit of the mechanized giant set forth at the beginning time. Illuminating half steps to a dark step we are all in step with the giantess. She speaks callous deceit and venom encrypted by the beady strands of the moon. Lune. Lunar brink the half step of time jerked into enchanted trance, mechanical teeth chewing the innards of your universe. Your dot on the map. Oh, cartographer of the divine. What do you know?