windows

They say there's a man starring out the window; I've heard this but I don't know.

If there is a man in the window were does he live, were his home; we're would he go if the Windows close; the soul.

What if the Windows perceive what is only experiential; what if the Windows blows flows into his residential presidential clean as crystals are my Windows. Diet; rice and lentils I and I saw through my Windows.

We ought to pull the plank out our own window; Windows heavy as the pharaohs soul.

Down the Nile I row reaping and sowing; behold the glory after glory after glory, oh yea the window story.

To behold why I exist look into my iris, I inspired this; not I but the eye which dwells high. Higher than all things; my heart sings to eye; fly. Beauty in disguise; sky.

The Windows cry wet pain drips; the pain inside the Windows sticks.

The house is not made from bricks; the flesh contains the spirit, feel it.

Get em; hit em with the wisdom that comes; beating like drums.

Eyes red with heat from the infinite flame can't be contained inside the window pane; does the man feel that looks out the window for real.

Stained with pain from life; feel. Sitting on my window seal; I saw people steal, fight. I even know this kid that got killed.

Filled with the deposit of the Most Holy; Most High, and Most Magnificent Holiest Spirit.

I made it; Windows.

Blackhemmingway~ 2014©