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Bür Gür
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Jogging
I'm spending time to see if it fits.
How can it fit if its a misfit?
Today I saw sequential roots
upon a fellow's way to be a lucky man
who cannot dream of handwork spends.
Spend time judging on the best of routes
to discern the corner on which the roads of future may
make there way to our present doubts.
Mulch a flower in your hand
see peddles die leave residual
color to your beige-y lines
destroy to make, create again.
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Fine, like crimson to your boulder face
make it fine and make it strange
I don't know what to say, I don't know what to do.
I don't know what to say to you but,
I love you
I love you,
and there's nothing you can do.
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