Busy going to Towards the near And removed from here, Ingesting more so Congesting a minute’s fear Of going anywhere […]
Busy going to Towards the near And removed from here, Ingesting more so Congesting a minute’s fear Of going anywhere […]
A soft recline Has climbed the gun To shoot at reminding Alarming, Then resign.
We move forward, Yet what I have, Will never Catch me, Back.
At the joints of rigor, Is a momentary figure Fleeting as is meeting still, The augmentation Of sensations fill.
