Saturday, May 16, 2009

Love poem for my neurons.

The speed to eat your sense away
Drink to keep it all so fluid
Angel for a sweeter sorrow
And the street to hold the axe.
How far you've come, to do it now,
and what grotesque props
Playgrounds hung in space, castles hermetically sealed
The rarest rots of old Europa, dead men sealed in little boxes,
magic out of china.


Nooor said...


The Only Left.

We need to regroup;

(read it)
definitely your forte.
but send me some music you've made?