Tuesday Night Post #3.2 / by DBL

Lovers,

Its tuesday

-DBL

At this moment I am frustrated.   Dealing with caves of pastured  hills I resist but I enter, knowing what will occur will be a sense of being outside in the darkness.   Just as the walls are moist, so are the chilled blue blades of grass.  This is where I end up tired and achy.  On trips to wild reactions and decisions I take my naps in institutions.  Naturally the seeds that germinate from this conclusion share the same commitment as my execution.  Dialing the proper number to call the doctor, to fill the prescription that murders the patient, in this proof your fail is the solution.  Redialing context of dissolution I stand proud on broken and swollen legs.  Tree trucks left to spoil, finding necks long and hard, wheels in mud stuck, the child cherishes his freedom.  

With growth and pain rounded fingers feel around as wealth regains.

With repetition I find nostalgia when nothing changes assuring I remember the following.

With repetition I lay my head at the feet I adore without no standards.

With repetition I assure the memory deforms in dome or shelter bending as needed for the assault.

Gems, found in beds left for dead.