Free-diving. Sky climbing..

through the clouds of premonitions.

Journaling thy thoughts with the pen stroke of UN-conditions.

Free living.. no restriction!

Free loving.. no affliction!

She said “I love you”.

He said “Don’t bother”.

He lied.  He meant…. “Our Father..”

“who art in heaven, please protect my heart.

because.. this woman… this woman… can tear that shit apart.”

She said “I love you” …

Again & again.. “ok easy. Will you.. at least

receive my love as friends?”

Damn man.

Sky climbing to the pen strokes of UN-conditioning,

free drawing the conception of intention.

Pen strokes calling, ink drops free falling

from the tears of UN-conditioning..

Peaceful rejoice in the embrace of opposition..

“Sit down, my friend, let us speak as man”

Won’t you sit and speak… the pen has stained your hands.

Ink and emotion, thoughts and commotion..

are to be released before spillage,

are to be expressed before thy village.

Pens and words, adjectives and verbs

must be spelled.. from the well.. in which the heart dwells.

She said “I love you”

He said….

“I know”.


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