my anger bubbles up and over sometimes and I long for your presence to diffuse my tempered steel, water to quench my just desert. just desert. your trees sway for me with you in them, branches dreaming of roots and vices versus us forever and another ever and a day like today, hollow but for emptiness.
salesmen of our selves we run rampant through whatever ramparts rise before us, braving battlements and raingutters alike for the sake of salvation and her gemstones. forget about whatever it is you think you lack, for you lack only me.