Consensual adoration on a blistering nerve that seems to bubble and twist at the slightest membrane wander in a direction I've been undirected too. Good morning inspiration. Waking up with the urge to tackle what I've been trying to say for months. Summer heat no longer at my feet and fall please don't push me to fall any further than what I've already done. Good afternoon confusion. Where your morning inspiration is suddenly bombarded with thoughts and feelings, over sensing the entire situation, making the situation a conflict and being conflicted by such monarchy of self imposed puzzlement. Good evening understanding. Full circle kick and your back to the acceptance, to the slow steady beating of thought and heart to the exact same inspiration, like the sun and moon, full cycle. Sleep seems to be enough to saunter it all together, a present in a dream. Midnight snack on my heart.
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