Lost things, in a clean room.
In return, forgotten memories reappear before my eyes.
overwhelmed by. thoughts, or the cling of coffee.
good times. simplicity. I am glad i have a bed.
sometimes I need to come back to you.
away from a scary reality. Outside they scream the first amendment,
but I remind myself the third.
I can't say thanks. Because we do not understand each other
polar opposites and inbetween stands
"I". and "don't" and "no"
forgetting to be written in books
or on the internet
by people who were born before I
let them live in my insipiration 
by living the moment and sharing air 
divination like love it bewares
a fire. flame. energy, in the game is not lost or transformed by definition
somewhere else it has been gained
plane jane playin along the words
freedom flying birds the prey is
inside a bigger brain
until fate recognizes balance. I can't say thanks