On the birds and the bees

From the nothingness’ depth, I am wandering: what is life but havoc? Events seen from a different perspective. Burning flowers have no smell - like a teen spirit does. Your curves are the crucial place where I lose myself with no bureaucracy – it is a matter of spelling and nothing else. It is a lovely night. It is coldish, there is room for happiness. Let me whisper some nonsense and let it be: why such reluctance? Let’s talk about the birds and the bees… Mysteries around the universe make me aware of our rationality’s fragility. What is that thing beyond the sun?

[L!]