and into her vehicle, was priceless. Ragged and fresh, it smelled of winter and lunches on the porch with her grandfather.
I do not regard her well. Dulcet though her tones be - Ich musse -
I cannot respond to an over-friendly hand.
Orange casts about, tangles of blue and matted fur, in his wisdom I seek to overcome.
He shouldn't be.
It is these standards that force us apart, like time and the two headed best.
One moment, fragmented upon a brown frothing waterfall, lasts until yesterday; and it seeks to repeat its own history. It will succeed even when push it into my future. The two-beast, never to reconcile its dichotomy, will control me.
The dedication to forthright action. Ich musse.
I can only slay this demon, if he is one, myself. Treading grimly on the mottled horizon, dripping fragments into loose colors, and straying from inaction to inaction - I tyrannize the future with my fist.