Peripheral punches pack my protective pulpit.
Try not to make sense; simply know what you are saying.
Problematic placement produces empty pictures promised in my pathway.
Ah, you're still looking.
Provide protection. Or, prevent any privacy.
I can think for myself, but I can't see for myself?
Pleasant and productive, yet without proof.
Let me--force it.
Patient. Finally. Perfect.
Perfection is terrible, it cannot have children. - Sylvia Plath
melon sized zucchini from the garden
Lonely teardrops - Michael Jackson