sweetness

i cannot let it go. and it really means nothing. does it? strange offers. and allusions. and intrigue. little hums. and i cannot make up my mind yet. more and more and more, and none perfect. but i never wanted perfection. i just wanted broken that i could fix.
this deserves a pome, i bleeve.

roleplay

here is a surprise.
too many and too diverse and all of it is only reaction to action. for each a role, and all the parts i play sit uncomfortably. if there was really one, just one, one only alone; then i would rest easy.
chameleon.



in silence i am myself.

midget in a beansprout

"The most wasted day is that in which we have not laughed."