a misty Rose,
rose, rose
High up, above,
spoke, spoke
man in my garden
guarding a grove:
Spears of fears
the dried land of Man
Shinning through glasses
these Webs that I am
writing in silence
sampling with code,
a Magic Hem,
Borderline practice
Spheres and Spheres
Dry up your tears
the Sun Rose again,
For years, and years, and years…