![]() ![]() With smoky circles of thought he tries to combat the fog, and with anagrams to defeat anatomy. The parchment philosopher has no traffic with the night, and no conception of the price of love. If those who look in see me condescend to barricade the door, they will know too much and crowd in to overcome me. I must spin good ghosts out of my hope to oppose the hordes at my window. I am unnerved by the opponents of God, and God is out of earshot. But nothing tangible comes to rescue my besieged sanity, and I cannot decipher the code of the eucalyptus thumping on my roof. Give me a reason for courage or a way to be brave. ![]() Oh, canary, sing out in the thunderstorm, prove your yellow pride. ![]() The winds boomed triumph, our spines seemed overburdened, and our bones groaned like old trees, but a smile like a cobweb was fastened across the mouth of the cave of fate.įear will be a terrible fox at my vitals under my tunic of behaviour. My hair made a shroud, and kept the coyotes at bay while we wrote our cyphers with anatomy. The stream of our kiss put a waterway around the world, where love like a refugee sailed in the last ship. ![]() “Under the redwood tree my grave was laid, and I beguiled my true love to lie down. ![]()
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