mermm

s l o w m o t i o n.. the walls find rythem in the secrets and an old man whispers riddles rippling riddles, rippling.. i lean to fill up my baged tea leaves with water and dreams.. all the machines started to dance with zzzz-sssppt, and cliped the pedals of aroma and color.. to the end of where the well goes, hallow echo in mid dream i slowly let go.. each flake fell in the rubble on road, each flake had its own shape steming and splitting giving flowers like endless geometrical rain showers on and on.. is why orange backdrops grab my heart, we cant seem to bleed this scenery so tangarine dreams need me.. CONGO peadalin fetherin the wind, teathering my hammock the old man hands me more books and sand.. says, go get girls and grapes, and even so each thought flourishes in further," oh my head and derbis!", dust ruslte spirals and spikes out into a cool ripple on riddle got lots of lost little tea pots wet socks we're lost, someone handed the man a fiddle..
night time eyes..
silence on skys..