Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Moving to Africa

Snow. Break the door down. Greenery. Youwantme. I'm ready. Dr. Goldhammer. Henry Lavender. Messiah. Baby. The old gardener, weeping, standing over a box of shells. Blood on the spouse. Last flowers. Conscious. Consciousness. Oh. Candy invented by the eye. A froggy, synthesized to protect a universal cause. It really really really could 'appen. Explore the moon. Legions of pines, brushing against one another for warmth. Feelings of doubt; suspicion. Siberia. Snow. Electrons creating love. Lasting generations and years of comfortable misery. Too terrified to move, to change, to breathe, to leave, to cough, to touch the whitest breast of a figure you love.

Nude

Nude

Nude

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