All moones phasing all at once what silence despairy inaudible drawl a magickally, hum jackal lovely Aum, “all, and all but me"! Stillborn a spookheart entirely, the fragile bosom’s glass eye. I-nestling, clueless cooless cycling, nestless crying sought-said, at best soft when in looping dreams of the lune lit past and the long lost dead —And I will feel this way again and again.
