on a cloudy april morning i scratched steven tylor's butt before aerosmith decided to go pink singing crazy with his hypnotic daughter trying to seduce a dance pole within the reach of a blonde's strand of hair that got stuck somewhere between Sitla Khet's altitude and the tiger who refused to pay me a visit while i stood waiting at the airport with a friend of his trying to understand if the tattoo on the ankle should be a fairy or a fairy colored with the tan on my back that happened to settle in quietly while i covered the sun over my skin trying to understand what was written on the first page of my basic and intermediate course module that i could'nt understand for so so long and today felt like someone had walked all over the road with too many tyres having already exploited it but at ease with the rain that colled her down before another day could be called another day or a wednesday or a day when i cant seem to understand the connect between whats said in the secret and what was quoted by people before they learnt to become humans again.............................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................i am the sand that got stuck between your index while you were busy drawing your luck line.......