Don’t give up. Eat your breakfast. Be ready to open the door. Sometimes I just can’t take it anymore. A shoe lace here, a shoe lace there, all tangled up and poor.

I ruminate in the deepest point of darkness. In the eye of the singularity and at the heart of warmth. Thuds of fire strike upon the distant shore.

I pull and I pull, but I cannot free my neck. And my face runs pale, and my experience runs thin. I gasp for air, and I let it in.

An oasis in my breath. The orange of orange juice. And I, and I can be found in the blue sky, by the grace one cannot lose.

When last night I lay in pain, I snapped this just for you, as the moon came.