on_my_palm squint it says blurry in blue something about a dream I must have wanted to keep safe under my folded fingers. On my palm some weed shakes into a bowl and the scent melts into my clothing and my sweat. On my palm I tried to read my life but the font was too small. 020701 ... Death of a Rose are the lines of my past, present and future. lifting a barrage of deification and deceit. strangers nodding and mouthing seductive laughter, trying to create the simple stance of vortexes dive bombed. 040805 ... pete the remains of the burns taken at work, the silent passages of fortune lost and lost and lost and lost hmm.... sleep we see we need it not my words, oh i have words, but i cant say that aloud "'i am half sick of shadows' said the lady of shalot" 040805 what's it to you? who go blather from