Friday, November 11, 2016




Half-awake, I breathe in the night.

In the murky mind-sky, there are movements.

Jewel-hued by shades of un-named colors, countless stars appear and dance.

We're all flying now, passing through -- a gateway of fire, a ring of golden light.

Nightingale, I must be moon-dazzled.











They say that Leonard Cohen passed away yesterday.

Fare thee well, nightingale.

The mountains held up the sky like pillars, releasing plumes of pebbles, streams and silt as far as my girlish eyes could follow, and w...

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