Sometimes it's better in our clothes.We are together as we are not,we come as we are.The sky is immense and frail,we are full of lists and feedback,there are no private numbers.Why does everyone care?The smell of sun is in thelees.A flower is a flower, flowers nowbecoming a book of consummations.As light enters a house,there's nothing to return in it.Though it's never enough, it's realas preferenc ... (read more)