yes, angels will be eating from our fingertips, and why not?
against odds, i feel like a squirrel who has stumbled upon a buried nut. what luck! so my tiny furry fingers offer it up for feasting, and
well, someone must be watching, if only the telling. i'll call that an angel and continue.
lain forgotten? no, not even misplaced, you were exactly where i left you. another fantastic unimaginable home. it's just the small attention of mine, in this litle nutshell head. it's just i want to forget that i'd almost forgotten. it's just i've been digging in foreign dirt. did i tell you there are palm trees here?
you can't get at nuts unless they're cracked.
ok, so roses grow all over, not just in parks in our respective cities. let's see. where next? it seems very natural to plan with you even though 'natural' is a construction that also grows in parks and duplexes and teevees. like many words, it's a blunt object. a simple tool - to get at the meat.
so yes, we'll feed whatever divinities we want to invent, and call it supper.
happy birthday. i know i'm late, but you know what i'm like. squirrelly. your friend.