Two, Three, Four

Synchronicity is killing me the synchronicity is filling me in the worst way, everything is relative until you hit the bottom line, bottom out at bottom dollar and the only cost of hard work is all your melancholy, the scrapes dispensed until there’s light blazing through your skin the translucent glow of all within and no one will sleep because your warmth will burn the sun, each day is bright and fun and enjoy the bless and the ing even more so, even so more and with all this radiance there’ll be no choice but to bathe in solar beauty and connect those dots that began years ago, all those years ago.