It Was In The Black Mirror Of

Love Is When You Meet Someone Who Tells You Something New About Yourself.

Words Make Love With One Another.

The Clouds Were Disappearing Rapidly, Leaving The Stars To Die. The Night Dried Up.

Who Am I? If This Once I Were To Rely On A Proverb, Then Perhaps Everything Would Amount To Knowing Whom I 'haunt.'

The Purest Surrealist Act Is Walking Into A Crowd With A Loaded Gun And Firing Into It Randomly