the day opens as the clouds move to the east, exposing a yet veiled sun. the bamboo droops from yesterday's storm, to threaten the gems that grow from the moss.
But, then hardly see the cotton-like wisp wings of seeds that return to Earth before frost. and what is left unknown?
pragmatic sensualist, motivated by really deep instincts, actualized by willful imaginings and perpetuated by other's desires. Abstract, yet clear in purpose, honest, but abstruse, my moods change like winds and water with my confidences, and when ungrounded, i am both guarded and vulnerable, leaning, in darkness, to the Light, nurtured by instinctual feelings arising from a deep gene pool.
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