Currently:

The hum of a dust gatherer sucking innocence from the very surface of the dirty floor that we've all dragged our wheels across while dreaming of our destination.
excluding, stomping, zoning.
nothing can be done--nothing can ever be done.

Previously:

The voice of an angel (1455 miles west) traveling elegantly through wires and reaching the insides of my probably deaf ears. another reminder of my beauty, and another reminder of the beauty this world cradles.
Grinning, Loving, Fantasizing.
Something can be done--something can, and will, always be done.
I smile.
I love.
I(t) hold(s).

Now what?

I'll crawl into the whom of a knife's web and treat myself to a drink and some food and a friend and some friends and a friend is waiting for me.

here I come.
My eyes are enervated soles.