man walks through a board room door looks around and decides while this would be considered a ‘totally fab’ existence to most it no longer seemed worthy of the vast fortunes earned somewhere back in time when he, a lone traveler collected where his heart called “mine” these things all the ready made while sublime were still of simple in sort to his mind

preciously beautiful the delicate lips of those there until a shocking wave taught the otherwise childlike eyes where precious might be too, sometimes lie beasts in bosom bare and so it was as the mother shared in this world created by the man in the board room door

he sought to seek more and in so doing took fortunes time thinking wandering around the land wondering what if any in the things he could sew might change how his day became what he “used” to know rather than what he could do and so this began the true journey of his soul

looking down he saw his feet dressed in socks ripe in weep from travels far and resting then in a concrete jar he slept alone on a hard ground quietly crying to the lone sound of his heart
which fell apart the moment he saw who he did in the dim light of time

“prestidigitator…” was the start of a rhyme he’d know knots until all signs come to show that overly comfortable conditions do make for senses lessened whits loosened in dimensions hastened as a smile and a really great grilled cheese became a most popular item invisible as it is to most on a menu far far yet not at all really far away.

“some things out to hear” began the great day and so his story’s to continue

“what can I say”
she wrote