Thinking how strange the trees reach out, and birds know to fly to South, and how I can’t quite envision, but I can still, quite vividly, remember the taste of your mouth. This accumulation of time, that resides in the bottom of my feet I seem to neglect, as each rough stomp morphs it’s shape until it’s dissolved and no longer tangible. And I cry, to the stars I cry, “But why are you so beautiful?...
Now I see that I will never find the light. Unless, like the candle, I am my own fuel, Consuming myself. Bruce Lee
I think I could turn and live with animals, they are so placid and self-contain’d, I stand and look at them long and long. They do not sweat and whine about their condition, They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins, They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God, Not one is dissatisfied, not one is demented with the mania of owning things, Not one kneels to another,...