perfectly sublime combustion,
echoes of previous ignition;
that I could even stomach the differential
is judgement against this sphere.
origins of metaphor,
and sources of experience;
many and tens of many,
none real.
along this diameter of sustenance
where I and they are;
we together are unaware
and inconsiderate of each other.
You are to me simply an implication;
a presumption,
a statistic that is cement;
an observation not requiring a soul.
I
...I,
See your eyes.
and
See myself.
and
Feel warmth.
and
Feel touch.
and
Apologize.
For me.
And everyone.
And me more.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
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- W. Yadusky
- hey, we're not there yet people