some eyes phenomenally sleepy, waking up with a crying eyes, looking alluringly depressing today. darker and cooler inside so much that i wouldn't dare hear an interruption, a grudge gets big enough to keep around for a while, my charming history revived.
from books i can learn the spleen to a whorling circle shot out of the top of my heads. each one goes into a nother infinitie, infinite numbers of those shotted trajectories sideby side. and a waste of some time i dreamed would be jittery in the good way. this morning i shook hungrily, romantically nostalgic for a day when i watched the leaves falling for the most dense hour, yellow. the shortest season, kissing on a sidewalk, sleepy and crying.