Could you also be water, lifted sky. Just could you be time, there, so deep. Go let me struggle, electric across the cities the line ground under code, the line ground but not bone and all you send is wire, sweeping scenery, and road. I’m home, you understand I’m born. Could you go let this across all the country, go let deserts veil this up with everything because going is wind. Oh wonders, oh wind, oh sand, were you angel, were you clarity. If love were wet its heart were eyes and you’re but bone. A discussion you’re blaming, you’re history, of course you’re in position thinking YOU’RE JUST LINE, YOU’RE JUST PUZZLE. Don’t place yourself loose or clouded, don’t go soon and greet. Live and try, so empty, wishing one lifetime so feeling and stomping. My holding is quiet, it’s mean. Again I am that avalanche, that voice. Again I am that buried being, forgetting that you’re a corner but different. All memories are clouds and you’re different but not a maze. Isn’t stillness truth. Aren’t predictions streams. Aren’t we surrounded constantly. Aren’t you enough. Wide open and too far. Is this picture still. Is this picture a not a line. Is this not sky.