Sunday, August 17, 2008

jigsaw poem


choose me. choose this. choose you.
choose the right decanter. something that looks good on the table. you don't know what a decanter is for. doesn't matter. you know you're supposed to have one and it looks so damn good.

remember me when i was five years old. not carefree. because i think you have to know what that means to be it.
remember when flying was as easy as pretending you had wings and standing on a hill with the wind twisting through your hair. remember when fun was chasing someone, shouting their name and chasing them, catching them, then letting them chase you screaming the whole time.

taste this.
just taste this. feel it. taste is one of the most potent sensations. so taste this. taste this like the last thing an ant tasted before it died and became part of the amber was sweet. taste this. taste this life. because trees are more then timber and people are more then accomplishments.

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