Untitled: #222 (wrote in sub square applestore)

I'm tired. I haven't been inspired to write anything new for a long time. Even when I get inspiration, it's the wrong time. I have books with pages, with nakedness in the margins. They are waiting to be clothed with the best breaststrokes. I am the gifted child whose penmanship has been shipwrecked on the island of my own thoughts. Anchored in blue remnants of the sky. My hands are wading in ink. Waiting. I'm painting pictures, I think? I think! Two different statements, stating abatements of my impatience!