Throat
i remember nothing while it all happens
i am like the shadow on the wall of a cave
with no actual light source
i move similar to expectations
then suprise
the unsuspecting...
with the gravitation of the jovian
and then
spiral away like a wheel that
flattens a speed bump
Jumping through hooks
Barbed by barbarous thought process
Making it out anyway
The days are too stupid
Filled with fijarse
And seeing the makings of
Seasonings
As leaves fall into your hair
Heir to you
i feel the shell of God
Surrounding me like a glad bag
Around the throat
Thank God
Nuestra vida es muy preciosa
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