Along paths of stronger things, holding scenery and gold fixtures, I wondered what a vision could be. In draperies behind moonlighted fosters, gilded in shadow upon the book you had been reading, and still I have not found it.
Even if it takes all night, all night? Yup, all night childe- sweet honeys is sweet tea, das why it matters more here than there, thats why it doesnt slide to warmer fuzzy and gleaming things, through teas that you see near pages under sunless trees.
Dresses hang low too, couldnt have wandered that way without resolve of this,you just wait, purple skylight gonna come sifting through this gauzy greenscape-toiling and rolling in the earth, the hills girl,
this is something else, you’ll see.
-JUKE, by Christina Long