The practice, the rations, the ratios, until the greyest of streaming clouds purport, yes, purport some preying thought, forest powers, alluvial light. Namesake intends the exceptions. Simple stars alert colours. We have this way together, all of us, and the simplicity of saying words. We have words for a reason. We have reason for a word. In the least green of difference, as time takes and music holds, no colour more than any other.
poems, fireflies...