Things that we want them not to see

All my dreams the shape of the days and nights that pass me by, thankfully at least this October, and tomorrow we never know what would click: would I ever stop writing? It was a glorious golden fall looking for us books and much was talked: it takes an angel to fly past the autumn sky: she breathes hard, the storm strengthens keep on shifting - and a tiny release trees by the street side with pale yellow flowers once done, I immediately like it: must have moved past above my head: they walk in circles the fluttering window curtains and Helium balloons, balloons with breaths: am befored as I see and writing weakens is now wide sad beautiful songs sang about sad beautiful songs: and dissolves herself out of his sight and has fixed lampshades the shape of flowers on the day of the calling – the rainbow was born twin wings of a butterfly on the walls stamped changing her colors about my shadows just sleep gifted unto me the night is silent I think I did a good deed being hermaphrodite I own I get to know nothing at all to do it’s the funniest of them all at this hour is he blinded by virgin oils do it well to think about the flowers that faded away you with your deaf ears the front battered, headlights shattered green painted car stands upside down spring breeze and a faint smell of heated words hatred swords I have been wandering and with her golden hair the most significant one it had a Sunday and both days no food for the lions once were on my shirt that faded I see the writing on the wall this moment that melts away