Forgive the attempt at of poor use of the Dr. Once you send it off the sadness goes with it. That intro is just fantastic, and to end it with that piano, amazing.

Hills will tell you that you hate running, but hills lie.

What is a tango for one,. Sad music of a lone guitar? What use are red high heels. When they no longer have partners? The cobbled streets are lonely,. The shops are shuttered,. The cathedral bells are dull. With more longing and more desire. I turn slowly, on my own,.

Though I feel sick I am not ill. Playing games with my frame of mind. Keeps me tossing and turning when wide awake. As I delve deep into. My most precious dream state. How many times do I have to remind myself. To step away from the window. And will cross again if we must. Together stepping like a human net. Resurrecting life by conquering death.

Saturday, June 25, 2016. Driving home early in the morning from my other job one Sunday, I turned the radio to the local AM channel. I never knew that the music was anything special until many years in college when friends played the music. From upper-class backgrounds, their interest in the music was as connoisseurs of a music that.

Black holes threaten to swallow whole. Any abstract word they attempted to create. Even concrete words find themselves. Endangered, drowning in the pools of. Quizzes and lectures, having grown. The narrow views of those who think they. Chronic disease filling lungs with a.

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Words to express more than a meaning. The galloping stride of horses. This nuance of age, sex, color. Eyes locked in hopeless fascination. Where will my words go. When I am gone? And where the world. Sent over miles and marks of dominance. She twitches her nose and listens. Birdsong is a tongue of tones. Crows call in the darkness of dawn. Robins have a song for rain.