Clouds are chocolate in love and lovemaking, like raking autumn leaves, yellow and ruby.
We play the chords in augmentation inside our thoughts, the keys are only distraction, preventing
us from coming on. And thunderstorms are weakest at dawn, trembling to turn their lights down
low, keep the music running, it's our favorite song. There's ice cream at the bar, and a shot
of whiskey downtown. Get some while it's hot, while we're the only ones around.
Our I's and we's withdrew from their shelter, and struck it rich under the soft corner of summer.
((Salt our wounds, we are ready.))
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"As a single footstep will not make a path on the earth, so a single thought will not make a pathway in the mind. To make a deep physical path, we walk again and again. To make a deep mental path, we must think over and over the kind of thoughts we wish to dominate our lives."
