Billows of summer sounds an Epic Silence and the Cattle Call

Ahhhh Sadness my sweet teen wrestler, twisting and bumping into me staring me down only in moments do you pin me to a mat, and here I collapse into you with the brick and mortar progress of plan to be made and executed. How do I, compose the bigger arc in the weight of this fleeting breath, when a flip of a switch and a sit on the patio, a night on the town sweeps all memories aside, but this flicker will be captured tonight as I fold into my studio and reflect on my progress and the work that I love and the people I admire and the places I want and the experiences I crave. Summer the consumer of face. My mythic power of intention will all ways frequency back to the luxury of love the vitality of creative spark. But this gentle twist of longing is exposed and it will glimmer in the light and pass of sadness I love you, maybe even more than happy or your intoxicating friend passion. Tonight I crave a laugh under the sweat of desires to be more than myself, and loving little old me.