Lapsing through the layers, the up-filters and throw backs of mind. Remembering the un-memory, the loops and crashes of recent life. A brain full of forgets. Uplift and spoken loud mantras ushering the new urge to forgive. But deep dark circles confirm the trouble in my life. Me interred inside a bunker without a view to the outside. I I long for a desk and a half hidden urge to write. The solstice coming, gently slipping in its entry with little waves of optomistic vibes MB.
No comments:
Post a Comment