FLAWLESS
My words are edging towards your own fruition;
so many things go into the making of this fuse.
Myself, and you, the little red wagon at the
side of the house, the tall glass with the cold
iced tea - small items of the sort which
make this life connected to something
with strength. The lineaments of vision
and the sight of a hundred moments,
all together, as one. If you can't
take the small, you'll never
get the large. Men have
died for less.
so many things go into the making of this fuse.
Myself, and you, the little red wagon at the
side of the house, the tall glass with the cold
iced tea - small items of the sort which
make this life connected to something
with strength. The lineaments of vision
and the sight of a hundred moments,
all together, as one. If you can't
take the small, you'll never
get the large. Men have
died for less.
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