you are the fabric from which my love is made you are the golden field in which I lay you are the moon upon which I gaze you are my silver night and...
my mind is an ocean drifting between shores; deep swells, violent storms, calm sea... you, my love, are the moon -- pulling me towards you, escaping...
do computers think or merely calculate? thru the echoing sky in (the) most vivid of blue sprung an island of thought rejecting all gloom looked east...