[ come out! don't shiver there! ]
lost in the maze of an open field, they quiver and quake to awake, never-knowing what use, let alone what good, their fears will render. as if the mere glimpse of that fateful stamp: return to sender, would blind the mind and pierce the eye, with plank or fly. slowly and surly, they are always changing.
rain rain, go away. little yoyo wants to play. yup. so i bean thinking. about motzi and ma'adim. i'd very much like to go there. hehe...mo tzi. mono lake. ma'adim. mua'dib. i'd like to go to them all. mmm. hrmmm. i guess i'm muddled on all the other fronts, though. even if they are just a whistful whistle away. |
