okay or not I am nonetheless

my name in the flesh my golden wavelength reaches out to your goalpost wantonly as if I were not wholly contained here in the diamond bred shelter unnoticed by anyone silted in new morning as a way through marvels and doubts. What if we disagree about the shoulder length of hair fallen into and around the eyes? Is that wealth, is that curlicues blinking as the roundabout approaches in weeds of green share placed where placation dampens momentary grief. Why not just shelter what falls into our hapless arms?