|
|
|
|
A joy starved of breath will die malnourished: cherish the moment, for as Goethe said, they are desperately rare. Vault to the sky, leave the deserts we sleepwalk through, quietly become an astronaut clutching history– rejoice at its stain, for tomorrow greets us coolly, should we let it. * The rarefied air restores a virginity, not by some puzzle of ozone, rather from a clasp of the divine greeting one ever so lightly. Shuffle months like cards, and if nine of hearts, trump it with the queen of spades that fell anaemic from the deck, and drowned in your hand. Death, dear one, is a deal done, change the DVD, fly until the impossible claims you. |
 |  |
|
|
|