THE WORLD
IS A
MACHINE

LIVE FREE



I can hear her stamp envelopes to a beat we created from scratch
and scratches over creamwhite skin that make no sounds
at all.
resonate. my feet were bare. my intuition flared like it could be some bright signal
on the road shouting,
look
over here.
we were all something to be looked at.

The wind pushed me a little to the left, my mouth left open i
moaned over the phone. oh sorry, its just cold, I...
I...
wish i could be with you around that fire, and not just for the warmth but
because I know we'd have so much more to say then. Our friends are friends. Our friends
are more than friends.
But now theres something breathing deep and red and fast that will make sure I wake in the morning. Quien Sabe?
who'd know that I could grow into a filing cabinent musician, a protector, a new kind of lover
that looks forward to late night friday drives, the best 4am phone calls, sweet dreams.

sweet dreams sweet dreams sweet dreams