The sunlight spills all over the place and I feel responsible. It is my fault, friends, that the rusty world has you in its tetanus embrace. I see you pinned there, wriggling and in a panic, but from here, honestly, it looks like you are trying to dance. Spinning in circles, offering up your booty to the gods. And ass you spin in circles, there are circles within those circles. And in those circles there is love.
Sweet love. Not the toxic love being peddled by people like me.