14 Nov 2009

and heartbreaking in its inspiration
i sealed the fissure the doubt incused in my quintessence
the wonder of it all blinded me with joy
breathless in the airy stratospherics which drew me there
(time was an illusion of our mortality)
the imaginary pain but a perversion of wish fulfillment
the mystery how perfect our mistakes
for all of it is a gift that the questions peruse nonchalantly
desiring only to see the light as we die

posted by John H. Doe @ 12:01 am

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