While traversing on this daylight's breathing, I plant my feet in your nestled lot. Collected, as am I. To the common eye, you plunge under the abiotic factors. A mere embellishment; trimming for concrete and grit. What platitudes. Your lavished limbs are as vigorous as they come, with a flair for flourishing out of the netherworld. Adamant to estrangement, you have the potential to make due in a meager vicinity. No demands or yelps, no contemptuous matters. Oh, how you must be tantalized; dearly; by the simple sighting of a car wash. Storm drains devour precious nectar. The life you live is a life of scarcity; oppression in it's paramount of forms. The sun is ever faithful to you, with cumulus clouds as a malicious rival. Common speculation sees your life simple, fathoms from truth. You're engaged in a constant war of attrition. Growing to live; living to grow. The world, ever bellicose to your plunderous decimation. Vigilant , you continue your proliferation. Olive colour blades roaring to spacial skies; so; reluctantly garnering the life of cavil.
The Follicles of Gia
October 17, 2007