2006-02-07 - 7:45 p.m.
August felicity, together or alone, skipping abundantly and not waiting for it to hail. Around a generous corner, I found you strangely engaged to a cup of soup. Singlehandedly you transformed an aircraft carrier into a floating garden. Protecting each sperm, making little bombs. Open to every sperm, creating little songs. Should I photograph the ducks and drop my jaw for the faux naif ass in the air pose that so easily returns awe. Into the new Earth pixel claims. Watching another box-office smash. If you drop your pants I'll let you have unprotected text with me. I spent my time blowing bubbles and mostly I was too offended to pitch a tent.
