Are you me? Do you percieve yourself alive in my eye?
Midnight moon spillin' it's shine all over bodies sprawled across the dirt carpet. Dirt carpet of colors crawling like ideas out of the tunnel mind, orange and muddy purple. The purple showcases what is to come, the future pulls you towards a mother that may be a mystery, may be a mystary forever. You are her flower walking through the lightning screaming a smile to the sky. Do you believe that poetry becomes the reader? Do you read? Read my life! The leaves are reading the days winding up as a coil of time, once a snake that did not spoil fruits.