Coming soon . . .
Everyone Needs A Little
(taken from the dying words of Mother Goose)
Gently they stumble and contemplate. A cool June breeze and worn leather straps along side the moon steering into a direction in sepia courses. Andrey Tarkovsky. Rolling soft shoulders on wings of innocence racing only against nature, the archipelago. Dimes and copper spheres puncture the patina of granule surfaces and accepts what remains. The only difference in them is degree. Viles of pure light. Refraction in action with an absolute awareness resembles a visage and maze. A universe unknown, only enamored with lead. Another captain announces his catch and offerings and passes beyond the world caught in a clear netting in peril. The dolphin with no treble or denial.
An awkward symbol to shield acknowledging us all with a bitter smile. Truth and honest exaltation, his awe and wonder is bliss. A mile of traffic is tragic for he leaps and muscular ecosystem reciprocates an entire pool of logic. Understanding is not ours for we have yet to strike the pathos without ourselves as mere priority. Without ourselves topographically involved policy is repercussion not oil as the lubrication of our own sadness neglects our initial responsibility. I have a name that is unknown never retrieved from the depth to which their names devour and protect those beneath the Great Star Nation. Are we geared for the answers as for the future or did the absence of verbal and violent attempts to create the solution or cure in essence, dissolve certain political bands that are: 1.) hand crafted and 2.) remain invisible? A crude shot in broadaylight when secrecy found a country.
I reminisce Cinema Paradisio