An Eve of Effortless Props
Lune, burn in me an inviting fancy.Let my insides exercise a movement in cogitation thus fleeting. For produced feelings and brilliant bleeks are fading waxed and veign through and through. Candles that dread their end. Moon, enticing tides that can't fail your call. Amoung skipping stones and dreaming in three's, the spruce rebuked my cry to capture thee, to lure that which has long driven me. Oh, but to embrace such effortless props. Making up in time the line we draw. Pose now the knot. My hand drew a blank when I thought of your love. These are thoughts over coffee, sipping bergamont, eying our sweets as they sleep. An eve of effortless props stiched in the apple of my eye.
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