At my heart.
Makes me little again.
Drawn out with delight. Closed curtains and fright. Sleepless night.
Worries that you’ve gone too far… especially theirs. Cares gone, spent on the trivial, the sabotagueical, the naive and unreasonable.
Railways and bushes and watering holes.
Parade of mad monsters.
Now we meet again.
With what result?