Desert sand.

The matter of millions of rocks, millions of stars, millions of thoughts, and millions
of wars. The one in my head is the longest I stand. I'm still walking up the stairway to heaven. My heart is no tart, not sour or a part. Its a whole colorful flow of an ocean. Salty notions and fragile seas, devotion and majesties.

Where do I go, and where is my home. I want to live here, while I'm here. I don't know how to not fear the day or the year. Money is poverty, but poverty is not money. My socks stink and are sweaty. I sit all day, and walk all night in my dreams. There is no where that I can say I feel fine and reign.

I'm sick of spinning, my head grinning. I'm nodding and a big part of me is flogging. I have been filling in a big part of me that was torn and ripped out, and I don't even think it will ever be enough to route.

I've found a love as sweet as can be. He's made of chocolate and covered in cherry. His smile is a style of elegance and grace. His beast is not in the least a bit in the way. Theres room for us all in the roll of hay. Then we lie along the dock of the bay.