Aug 23, 2009


sir, speak softly under lips of godflesh, for the holy roman empire knows not of beauty like yours, that i know i am the only one blessed enough to see.
go with them.
go with those angels who fly sideways so that the view of the sun won't ever be obscured.
fly with them.
branch wings from those tingling muscles.
sprout feathers as though your heart were growing outward.
go with them.
fly with them.
be sure, to say your prayers at night, even if silently, because you and i both know that no one is listening.
be them, just the same.

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