01 October 2009
Read me, a treasure map. See me, my language which draws in the style of Monet: impressions of my mind in brush strokes of type. Count me, my words which add to multiply: the some-thing of all is the greater part. From your crow's nest look over, in and under--standing, look out through your telescope of reading glasses. Measure and triangulate the latitude of my thoughts; take a sounding of my paragraphs for the sandy bottom. Find me, what's buried at the center: X marks the spot. Read me, lost thoughts sketched on velum, floating in an old bottle.
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1 comments:
Woah, I'm still trying to figure this out. You've made so many mental images swirl around in my mind that it's cramping up trying to fish out some deep meaning.
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