Settled she grasps at a pretty little petunia and accepts some kind of kindly momentum again, no artistic over-indulgences this time… no, AHEM(!) nothing actually.
To sit and watch AND LISTEN(ably) to some of her favourite best friends: she HAS deepeningly depended (silently) UPON, and she DOES IN-FACT hope
That they do know-it, because “these people?” They swim sporadically within
Her settled sense of self- helping her and UTTERLY unbeKNOWNst to themselves(!?)
Thru—
A few-too-many mental itches to scratch: “thank you,” says she…
“This is it. That radical feeling of being.. comfortably-both-CONSTANTLY PLEASED… …
WITH THESE MEANDERING dreams” Because, GUESS-WHAT? These people feel it and from the pit of their prestige
People Credit – 🤷♂️ @zoetennysonart @alanleotennyson 😉
