Today, 03:46 AM
The left-hand is in my right hemisphere. In the mirror, it's black. From the left, is crimson.
You see, this poem is about concrete things. My mind is a myth itself (no buts). And the brain a prism.
That's how I write my poems. Prismatically.
You know, colors are just how we perceive them, AND, my black cat absorbs more heat than the others.
This isn't science. I mean, in wrestling garjon, she isn't of Tomfoolery's felidae, and is new and gets some angry hisses.
You see, this poem is about concrete things. My mind is a myth itself (no buts). And the brain a prism.
That's how I write my poems. Prismatically.
You know, colors are just how we perceive them, AND, my black cat absorbs more heat than the others.
This isn't science. I mean, in wrestling garjon, she isn't of Tomfoolery's felidae, and is new and gets some angry hisses.