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Every second is a little eternity,
passing through like a constant stream
that ebbs and flows until it’s Friday now,
and now your room doesn’t look the same anymore
and now you know things your past self never did,
and now the world continues to spin
as you sit and marvel at
the vast stretches you contribute to
but will never fully know.
Now I am here, now I am alive,
now is forever, now is long gone.


I am a cute thing
Felt encasing stuffing
Colors you thought could only exist in your dreams
Or at least away from your grasp…
But here it is
Draped around your body
Button eyes which reflect the universe within
Aliens… monsters… vampires…
Fishes out of water, walking, talking, saying hello…
An amalgam of different styles and influences
Voices, moods, tones, idiolects..
Oh to be a voice in the choir of people
Singing a heavenly melody that
You have always heard in your dreams
Which sounds so ancient and ephemeral
As if, through this culture madness there is a
Spirit rising above all the references and intertextuality
Speak to me speak through me through words that
Have been written before speak like you are
And always have been here
An old friend
A flock of birds
Heaven and hell, Kuromi and Melody…
Some day, one hopes, my body will rise to the occasion
And fulfill tropes on TV to sate the freezing winter of
Lonely yearning of an unbought plushie sitting
On a shelf in a store
Watching as someone else buys it


the impression of a memory
is all that I believed to be
what happened in the passing stage
into the other side
but as the heart grows fonder
soon the soul begins to wander
and the space starts to grow larger
borrowed from the other side
now all I know are dreams
but if I had just more means
I’d take you to the moon and back
and give you everything