fresh beat path

Time has gone past, at last
fast as the grass I smoke
times that by the booze

I joke for sake of compromise

General face happy to be so

less in between, far less mean
solidify self into considerate
approach, a sentient being

Found my own, fitting the mold

Fleeing together we should grow old

I told you this would be true
beneath trees, no more to do
there is nothing left to lose
but you.

-Nisi-

 

0619161738e.jpg
Big Sur, California 2016

 

 

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