ellos son blancos se entienden

walked through the room like breathing was easy

 

and the end comes too soon 

like dreaming of angels

endlessly they'll set you free

i hope for happiness, i think of you.

l'heure bleue

noticing water is friendly sometimes

i look for moves and i search for breaths 

if this was another kind of story, i'd tell you about the sea

pick your pocket full of sorrow 

run away with me tomorrow

studded crown downtown

all the fab foam in your head will settle back down into your brain pans 

and either you're on the bus , or .... you're not on the bus

tom wolfe : the bus