splot, spot, dots

SPLOT

Nothing makes much sence... I'm still here
listening to the great fall, such music it makes.
simphony of wind cries and sweet shattering glass,
Tired feel. Close my eyes,
find, find the sparkle in me.

Omnipotence never been much of an adquisition,
but I've made the petition.


SPOT

I hear the melody your eyes make,
I've followed your heart beat
I hear the silence.


DOTS

Baking quick recepies of bon-bon amoure,

Making thick smoke,
Cigarette touch,
Smiling, smiling, howling.