Tuesday, March 24, 2015

53

Unless you will it too, He will be no treasure to you. Pull H down the flag-pole and leave the cord to flap its rhythm without. Translate faith to doubt, if still in the guise of spirit. She who uses the words God, altar, and angel hates the word soul. If it's through the wound that light comes, we're blinded by it. The vet yelled at him that last morning. This is how we recognize limit, no matter the music. We see cat in the orange of beer bottle, baseball glove. Someone behind the screen weighs your words for their moral value. Somewhere a house is burning and then burning again. Say nothing, lest she attack. That's what she does. Click the link.

--23 March 2015

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