violet collar

Time measures, time breaks. Accumulated madness and materials hastily sealed.
Mildew and wrinkles, dust and desire, burdened by brown cardboard, many folds.

We do have to measure everything. We do have to mark everything. Ping. Ping.

Shave and blow out candles. Shave and lay out flowers. Shave and do something,
because time lost is never found, right? That's what the people on the tv said,
growing sea grass in an old chair, growing flowers in an old toolbox, et cetera.

Play wired develops skills, measures youth mechanically and instinctually.
Living with moldy bread and a broken bone, we let go of our owner. The five
o'clock shadow is enough for time. No payment is needed so we chase it a way,
with small accomplishments, validation, lost warrantees. What more do we need?