Thursday, 31 December 2009
blue moon knows not of the occassion i shouldn't think. doing what she does from memory. or habit. or because it's the only thing she can do. her destiny set by gravity. infused in each mote of dust. doesn't know that the skin between moments has meaning because we bestow it with such. all hands on faces and bells. bells heralding the second where the future is now. where now swells with blood thick with possibility. where prayers are whispered like invocations from our primitive core to everything we know without knowing.
Posted by cloudgathererholdmedown