If my ears perk up,
And then tilt my head
To a side, will you find me
Odd, or understand
I’m just trying to get
A fix on you….
There is, so much to uncover foundationally that the basic workbook approach is so primitive in it’s elementary scope, that we’ll never broach the subject’s prospectus, not until the question’s clearly choked upon it’s own impatience and then to where….a
Fiery ball of electrified….erupts in furious witchcraft…
Entangling it’s very stock in the perishable yet dented cans of
Which, which of these,
Which of these words enchant you best?
Loyal to a fault
That’s been my everlasting decree, my shadow symphony, the broken back upon this skeletal frame I’m withering in,
And until I break these fortunate chains concealing me close,
I’ll never escape that which I’ve become to be, the visual representation submerged next to the Webster line, a living example of what is deemed, chiropractic porn for the unilateral mind approaching frenetic zeal, a mask for the offering, to he who hath no well to nourish