I saw you just the other day, you’re content with what seems to be everything, yet you drive me crazy in my mind, you’re like a misguided conception of something you hope but you don’t know.I can’t stand watching you like that – sitting there in the sun, reading that magazine, drawing on that servet, magicaly eyes fall apon you and gleam quite powerfully thoughts – but they are wrong and you play them well my dear. sometimes better than i do.
Forget about where you are and concentrate on who you are – perhaps the sight of slight fancy has its way, but not with me – it see you hardly.
Maybe the parts that you fill are the parts that i lack, i waiver the tendancy to see whats left, in those spaces you leave unfilled.
Though you re yet as you have been and i thank god for this, in sight and perhaps in way – but this i find debatable.
When will the earth payout? When will the forces that be take hold of those that take hold of me?
Filling in the lines my dear is somthing i cannot bear.