The night owns us all, who make believe we own the night. And whatever those shadows are, they outrank us.
I too desire the prize supreme, knowing how scarcely I deserve it. Does love denied become a viper’s fangs?
Life, or whatever you call it, has its own designs on us, but…toil as you will and believe in the real.
All my life I have been compiling strange words, tracing roots, inventing languages. So why still tongue-tied?
The moment of meeting my own eyes in the mirror: courage, you have it, and more, no matter the falling.
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