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A reason for every purpose under heaven
A reason
for every purpose
under heaven
Days fall off the calendar like water off a ducks back, pooling into the base of a 3 minute sandglass [the time it takes to reheat a tv-dinner in the microwave]. I've been writing down my thoughts in sporadic bursts of enthusiasm; not without the knowledge that it helps keep the beast at bay.
I flit between cities looking for the comfort of home and find it in moments; In the gape of a wet moist hole that I plunder with depth of my ache and hunger, In the widening of her eyes and the shortening of my breath; In the sunsets, sunrise, sunset.
The places meld together like harmonies in a symphony. I no longer have the questions I did in the beginning - just the acceptance that some things are without reasoning.
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