diaric, poetry

Nothins gonna touch us

when the belated gift is now arriving,
when you gotta float all calm-like in the highest altitude,
when even the dog bosses you around,
(yep, still float)
when authority falls down
(yep, still float)
and you look directly at the camera.
(yep, still float)
 
when you put on your shades and ask who cares? the sun’s going
to explode anyway



Photo by Uninteneded Concept on Unsplash
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