brb, suffering from artistic envy

Oh, man. This poem, this fucking poem:

Lies I've Told My Three Year Old Recently

Trees talk to each other at night.
All fish are named either Lorna or Jack.
Before your eyeballs fall out from watching too much TV, they get very loose.
Tiny bears live in drain pipes.
If you are very very quiet you can hear the clouds rub against the sky.
The moon and the sun had a fight a long time ago.
Everyone knows at least one secret language.
When nobody is looking, I can fly.
We are all held together by invisible threads.
Books get lonely too.
Sadness can be eaten.
I will always be there.

Raul Gutierrez

Also, since it's now after Valentine's, I feel 100% less sappy in saying that I love you all so much. Delurking was one of the best decisions I've made. Thank you all.

I don't know if it's a bit of a lie to say that I will always be here, but I'll try, and it won't even be that much of an effort because I really want to be in this lovely, non-corporeal space filled with squee and sparkles and some of the best people I've met, A+++. ♥