the now rewards me with many presents
therefore I truly can't care
If the future might tare,
within the jaws claws of a bear with the same color hair as we share - truly all ones self all to dare if only to consume pure true~ air
flaming lips, maybe in spattering bloody paper cuts which inspire a monkey into a loco grin:::::)
feed the red BURNING fire too swollen on the verge of eruption.
sun makes those two bloated slugs exploode and spit out sharp vampire fangs and some old lady's wrinkles, raisins?
star dust! I can feel what we truly contain! sometimes even witness it with my own naked, mortal eye: when the sun kisses our mother (which at certain moments seems too much alike a compressor diving pipe system) cycles! loves! and explodes...! into a million crystallized fires,
on the verge of stroking the mountain tips with that warming bliss but still exicting the