Jan 18, 2013 08:48
He has many names, of which I can never keep count. And I only know the false definitions that keep me out. It doesn't matter, so much, I suppose - I'd call him anything, if only I could hold him close. Yet, it becomes a game - since I'm really the same.
It's nice to meet you, Immanuel Gray.
tape,
free writing,
dreams