On the road this day, I am headlong for a leaving. Grasslands vast and even. Lily ponds, and bridges over fens. I count the curves to my rented bed…to its deep dream of riding on ocean swells. I feel a thing, and name it: the loom of Jupiter.
On the road this day, I am headlong for a leaving. Grasslands vast and even. Lily ponds, and bridges over fens. I count the curves to my rented bed…to its deep dream of riding on ocean swells. I feel a thing, and name it: the loom of Jupiter.
Aremyfeetofftheground 