The creation of life is dependent on so many things, but this life happens again and again, a world of possibility, born from a kiss, why does it happen, seeds are simply scattered, the water flows through the river, even in the desert it rains, the word every is dictated by possibility, and the lake may ripple, but sproutlings continue to reach for the sun, and branches continue to extend, everything calls, and there are so many stars in the sky, jump as high as you can, and touch the peak, weird nipples, give it a lick, what was I saying, if I said this out loud, I’d burst into flame, poetry, why am I writing it, like a senile old man, who finally awakes, my cum on your phone screen, all over the internet, everyone has nudes, I’m not so different, the universe talking to itself, so much echoes out, we may be different, but we are legion, our source, is one and the same…

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