nevermind the rod.
i'd rather get a fish [!]
one's born to become a shade thats colours richness consistently chooses whether & when to make itself visible.
one may be given a chance to blend
then one may be given that chance not.
one may be forced to quickly fade
one may stay strong & never rot
one's born to become a painting that's a more or less fortunate attempt of bringing to reality a vision of their mind.
one may have a mind of their own
one may have a mind of their own not
one may be willing to paste the cloned
one may be able to hatch the plot
she was born to become a palette of yellow, red & blue needing both the worlds individals & the(self)mades to keep her from drowning in that black stain of hers.
one may see she could make it all
one may watch & think she could not
one may think if she seems so low
she sure is low & leave it just like that
one may come take advantage of
one may come give her two more slaps
one may come out with a box of love
thus in both ways one can do a lot.
open your eyes
keep them closed if you please
i know you watch
but then do you see [?]
it's in your palms
fingers crossed till they bleed
swines of the skies
ask them now
they know me
out of options, one says, promptly ending the chase.
ceiling caps with the door heading out of this place
coneheads still seek their chance for a plain stable space
then the next thing one hears is 'whatever the case'.
if you knew what it was then you sure too knew why
throw the cartridge blank out & visualise that i'm...
neither a painting bit, nor a color left alone
i'm a variety of such (yet) lonesome to the bone.
