Cunning is your intentions, set forth to cause certain questions to arise in others. You breathe in the energy around you and blast out a pointed air that fills the room with newness. It can make the moments of pleasure turn into bile swiftly. Sometimes, it's a bee buzzing, finding cracks in sluggish thoughts, preparing it to burst with motivation. The power you yield wasn't earned to be hastily abused. Clever fox, seeking specific adornments, a new doll to parade, careful to leave no trace behind. Tread lightly, dear fellow, my kin, for you put your cock where it doesn't belong, you may not get it back. Take caution in deciding which basket to place your eggs. You would hate to open a chocolate to discover it is hollow? Only that mind is not an empty one. Instead, it is loyal and kind. I fear you find nothing but ether where there is a beautiful core of sweet delight. Perhaps, it takes another sort of creature to appreciate its splendor. I fear, it is you, who is empty, instead.
Comments
Post a Comment