403.

Pseudo Eden maps
out modern deities on
the edge of heart's sea.

402.

We spend the mass of
our lives apologizing
for misplaced duty.

401.

I want to ride your
tongue into the deep depths where
no one else has gone.

400.

I could live in a
library with my stomach
full of just those books.

399.

Does the light chasing
the shadows out of all dark
corners never tire?

398.

Busy lives stream whole
existence's fast forward.
Empty production.

397.

Silence, the repose
of deliberate actions
oft spoken intent.