Even the man who is happyglimpses somethingor a hair of sound touches himand his heart overflows with a longinghe does not recognizethen it must be that he is rememberingin a place out of reachshapes he has lovedin a life before thisthe print of t...
Even when she walks she seems to dance
Her garments writhe and glisten like long snakes obedient to the rhythm of the wands by which a fakir wakens them to grace
Like both the desert and the desert sky insensible to human suffering, and ...
Even on the smallest islands,they are tilling the fields,skylarks singing
Even when we sleep we watch over each
And this love heavier than a lake’s ripe
Without laughter or tears lasts
One day after another one night after us
Even such is time, which takes in trust Our youth, our joys, and all we have,
And pays us but with age and dust,
Who in the dark and silent grave When we have wandered all our ways Shuts up the story of our days,
And from which eart...
Hey.
I used to be a fag now I’m a checkbox.
The pen tip jabbed in my back, I feel the mark of progress.
I will not dance alone in the municipal graveyard at midnight, blasting sad