Object Conference

We are the lost friends

of the world. We speak 

in high volumes often unheard. 

There is a garden we 

must tend to, a book

to be critiqued, and labels

to be made. These are

the seeds we have sown.

I am not indifferent, but 

in fact indifferent. Does that

make sense? The details of

a human complexion tells a

story of sorts. It is

charm, whimsical features, that can

delight all. In a matter 

of 482 days the temperature 

will rise and fall much 

like our passion in particular

subjects. One day we see

black—then the next we pray 

for new kidneys. We grow

fearful for potential recovery. Our

themes must change to only 

reflecting on affections we've received.