are you feeling too much of anything today,
my cake droplet?
it doesn't matter if you catch the pulse ridden bodhisattva
breathing names down the boulevard with eyes that steal more than karma,
because you will be found passion blank
trembling at tablecloth as you wait for them all to lower their standards to the grassland moon
if you ask about me i will be dragging my cursor over a zombie ocean
where the beachgoers are still holding on to their favorite words
we are all angels after the incident, dragging honey by the neck
and becoming lazily lit by the unpackaged kindness of damaged eyes
stadiums filling the dim glory of your heart as you tell goodbye to a cashier
Written by Ryan Bry