Is it Fate, or simply circumstance that forces us to go on as we do, narrowly missing the other blazing stars connected only by the vast blackness of night. Everything is distorted by the absence of you. Everything, who is losing her will to wait. HEY Dude, gimme more monitor. Turn it up, man.
Check check one two.
But if it makes the cut, you'll see it in the next issue of The Shrubbery . The Shrubbery now only prints 5 pieces of poetry per month, so don't feel bad if your stuff doesn't make it.