His Reapers Art Angels
Telling my brother via email that when I was nine years this age
My brain was frozen while sniffing paint ? Twas, nineteen sixty-eight...
Children showed me how and everyone was doing it on the poor side of town
Crafted to dye as flowers be their hair; a psychadelic movement with nobody there ?
Part her waves his red sea these flames; an outer body experience looking back
At retro's defining blades; slashed this threshold, her baby died today ? Black jade..
Circling the air risen from it's chair; parallel dimensions ? Stepping, through time's door.
Copyright © Johnny Rhinem | Year Posted 2013
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