A bit of it
A tiny broken star falls out of my brain
As it tries to rearrange itself on the responsible mode with circles of right.
A five point intellect is not what she needs
A rounded consistency, grows up good, grows up great.
Sameness and lameness not tragic safe, safety and band-aids.
Late night but things don’t come out right.
I can’t chase those stars anymore, not here or in current time.
I’ll let them twinkle about the floor....