|
The moon finally saw me tonight.
It’s eye escaped the darkness
and blindly sought me, alone.
Standing.
Looking.
And it brought with its gl..
|
|
It is the me that is not me.
It's the sack of myselves
that I pack so heavy.
I invent all my look-alikes
and complain how they pretend
to be me...
|
|
The body is a myth.
We believe in its clocklike stance
and its recipes for self-cures.
(it's deep winds and it's subtle flutters)
We know it's one..
|
2
next
last