The Creatures OF Backward Metamorphosis

It’s not often I wake up with the anticipation to have your arrival AT the front of my window. Being hesitant to interrupt the meeting of intended vibrations, I was very reluctant to even give into the fervent pot of its taste. We all know how it is, to perform ‘manners’ when within a business. We can’t eat without a sense common courtesy in waiting for the other guest. It seems as if the utensils were slowly picked up. My digest reads at the enlargement of your entree.

When the waiter came by my table, she delivered a coy smile, which literally made the butterflies seem to arrange metamorphosis backward. Those caterpillars in my belly stung out the very taste for my food. NOW, that the proposal is laid out on the table, I find myself in joy; as I actually entertain the thoughts of perplexed passion, in an exotic abyss. I’ve been awarded a trophy, but I have never even run the race for a prize. I simply ran because I convinced myself; a monster of annihilation beckoned, my very existence. I’ve never been one to go into the closets of life; I rather become threatened by the horror of those who have the power to conclude my every direction.

I’m simply aware of the coming days of summer, which can linger in the memories of the stories of THOSE OF YOUNG and old. I’m about ready; to scatter those seeds of the matrix on the cracked floors I stand on. NOW, when the door becomes of reach, I am able to turn the knob a little closer to my own codes. I am the only one, who understands the initiation of my beginning and end. Those lines are extremely easy to find out, but when the letter is being written for you, BY SOMEONE else, you begin to wonder why do we write out a plan? Maybe the plan is that a squeal will appear as the premier.

 

The nature of my flow has now reacquainted; the once shy friend of mine. Friendship has sharpened the sword of revenge. Now, the rain is going to come down. We know, that the very sound of thunder; is not to scare us or intimate us. rather remind us, we were ENLIGHTENED before the sound.

This light never sleeps, it only reveals itself when it’s simply ready to inform you of what is felt. I’ve gained knowledge by the advice of my past, and don’t we all know, those scars and bulges somehow indicate the injury that has been healed? SO, as I ponder through the images of laughter of ecstasy, the sun rises upon the number of clouds which have vanished back into the sea.

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One response

  1. -sigh- How can I even begin to comment on such a work of wonder. I fear that my comment would be so weak that it would cower in the magnitude of your words. I truly enjoyed this piece, it aroused the urge to create within me, and so I must oblige.

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