The Sophist
2014-07-21 12:00 am
See depths of apathy,
In lengths of hair,
Like half of me there,
Other half in'other room,
Gaping blankly it stares there too,
Too, too, thoughts like lasers shooting off
in my mind,
See depths of beauty filling my eyes' seas,
'splayed 'round the front of my being,
All this beauty is mine,
Even you are in the bounty,
You are the wind, the sail, the boat beneath
my feet.
You move me.
You are a seed that grew toward this
ever-falling tree.
Freedom gnaws at nature,
A crutching being what's need.
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