Love,
parcelled out in ounces,
stored in sanitized bags
in the freezer:
This is where Rage against the Machine gets its name from.
Can we not agree that some species of madness are therapeutic in a land where the ground has grown soft?
Do we need boats, or snowshoes? Can a compass without magnetism work?
Whither the suspense: sleep or confused engagement?
Edit: do you the reader ever think like this? Do you believe that reason can operate without a wide net? Can lines ever be trusted without consulting circles?
If all this sounds like bullshit, move on: I’m not talking to you.