Journal .000696 rpms

Everything is lined up perfectly for our success. Yours. Mine. 
The horse is in the barn. The squirrels are in the trees. The mendicants on their knees. 

The world is rotating at .000696 rpms. 
The perfect exposure to the sun, for consciousness to bloom.
Warning to self. Do not let this day slip away! 
As the world turns, let the fat burn. 
Sizzle! 

Give it all away again. 

When the mind's exhaust casts its mist over you, obscuring the perception in pings of many deadly thoughts, be sure to stop where you are and challenge those thoughts. 

Who are you to be envious of another? 
Who are you to be full of anger?
Who are you to wish harm?
Who are you?

Those instincts which once kept us alive, will always haunt us. 
They were burned into our grooves. 

erotiKa #88

erotiKa #88
 by KatYa

not many miles of land
stand between
us

covered before long
from hong kong
with autonomy

then all unravels
in a strand of dna
plucked up from
the sand

the discovery
brazen
without age
phenomenal

comes the imminent
satiated

whip of six eyes caught
in mad uncovered
surprise

cracking inhibition
falls with silks
off thighs

caught off guard of breath
where imagining
dies

casualty of the cut of muscle
toned reality

and before long..
a great and burgeoning towards
finality

the whites of eyes
the cries