fyn gula Quiet songs of birds were all i heard until i saw you walking on the pavement like the sun behind rain swollen skies, a thing of beauty.

broken wrist from a riding accident, i'm broken open and sweet perfume is in the air amongst adolescent patois and fragility.

upon the grass like a welcomed princess visiting a country far from here. not close enough, but too near for reality.

we shout, "life is short!" "the game is fun!" and the day has just begun.

all the horses of the king and the men who never sing steal you away but not before you present yorself as a gift and we exchange treasures that no one knows about.
what's it to you?
who go