I think, imagine, dream, remember, and feel… all, on my skin.
It all smells so filthy, yet it all should small lavender. It smells the same, all of it… all of you.
And I think about it all… but again, what’s the point?
Down in the gutter, it will all be… and in time, maybe after a short while, it will all be over.
Things do indeed last forever, except you and me. And I’m grateful.
All is well and all will be fine.
Was delicious for a while, and now all of that has vanished.
Lucid and wild. It was a charming dream.
I loved it indeed.