Get a Life
By agora
Get A Life To him stars were merely asterisks punctuating a darkened page. To him trees and grass and moss were merely unknown fonts. To him women were merely undifferentiated in-boxes. To him children were merely outputs expensive to maintain. To him his heart was merely an organ like a spleen or liver. To him he was merely him. Then for no reason that made any sense he was selected. Perhaps it was random or perhaps he was the subject of a cosmic experiment. Then – a gift given by an unknown god, the sky tore itself into many clefts from which stars fell in fiery hymns earthwards and trees and grass and moss murmured in vastly hieroglyphic tongues and women became upfolding continents of rage and hope and love and children became promises of promises and each beat of his heart was a systolic and diastolic yes to the world and he was merely everything. Written November 12th, 2001 © on Nov 11 2001 09:29 PM PST 0 • 12
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"Get A Life..."