The Fruition Of Knowledge Fermented and Drunk.
Where is poetry sleeping and how can I rouse her to come and frolic and play with me as children and lovers do.
Deletion eats and is always empty. And creation creates until something is made worthy to stand as long as mountains.
Creation leaves it marks and some remain like stars and others pass like comets. But the sky is always greatful for her beautiful and glittering gown.