If I died right now, I'd have to say it was a pretty fantastic life

Big cursors want very badly to run your life
for in you value exists the nature of which is
lost today. When a cold rain wafts grey grief,
and pebbles a little dampening puckered kiss

it is possible to forget life, if only at the punch
of hazy late afternoons. Haze and cold together
remainder deep pockets that should be scarlet
and free. But should but really hurts your heart.