Hey guys! I haven’t written anything in ages, so go easy on me!
Hamsa hands harp on hamstrings; harpoon deftly soft subtleties sibilant and slithering like serpant-whales; synthetic syzygy, like palm reading, forces the hamsa of fate. I see your maritime sea of weak knees, and week day weakness. It’s blue in bloom, buxom; yields fjeld’s of violets. Fold your phalanges in the quiet. Say a prayer behind your eyelids. Breathe.