Instant Messenger Brent Armendinger




> In my dream my body was only one hand, so close to zero.

<honeylune> In your body my dream was only one hand.

<honeylune> Your gaze is doing this to us.

> Remember a snow fallen drunk.

<honeylune> Me too, but sober I measure fire by remaining its opposite.

> If it slides through take a vessel for me?

<honeylune> Iíd love to, but a little tired tonight.

> Alone is bluster.

> You always erase a little steeple where your head is growing.

<honeylune> Some animals prefer

<honeylune> our tiny sadness magazine

> Let me remember the movement of grass

> swallow your silver emergencies.

<honeylune> Iím blue shifting smoke, tempted.

> Iím blue shifting smoke, no thatís just economy... without my petals scraping bone.

<honeylune> As am I.

> Then he puts his hands on your shoulders and he feels a sharp wind.

<honeylune> Yeah.

> A storm of orphaned wings.

<honeylune> Maybe, but not tonight.

> You've been walking backwards since August.

<honeylune> I have?

> Rope is instantly shadow.

<honeylune> Well, timing is everything.

<honeylune> I measure fire by remaining its opposite.

> Why are you the only red passage if youíre so tired?

<honeylune> We are not beautiful or cozy.

> This transit of light through wire.

<honeylune> Rope is instantly shadow.

<honeylune> Why does it matter to you?

> Our faces are red from blood or candy.

<honeylune> I hear sand.

<honeylune> Well, if itís to happen it will.

> I forget Iím a sky full of knives, ambulance.

> Might as well slip my shell.

<honeylune> Donít say that, Iím not an easy castle.

> Harm.

> No one else is.

<honeylune> I donít believe that.

<honeylune> Youíve never met a forest from underground.

> I memorize.

> It ends as skeletal as stars.

<honeylune> and ...

<honeylune> why?

> I belong to the fog horn.

<honeylune> Well, is close to zero a pattern?

> Rope is instantly shadow.

<honeylune> Is it based on scratching?

<honeylune> Whatís the sunís breath?

<honeylune> A swan is paging you.

> Hi.

> We are busy weakness.

> He's funny.

<honeylune> I see.

> The sunís breath, I don't know.

> Iím one thousand windows waiting for fingerprints.