He does not even know why, he can count or speak.
Surely feeding his legs and arms to the truth ---- would result with the beginning of a frightening infancy.
He more than anything, wanted the sweet sensation of being home. But he didn't know what his home was, or who he loved.
So he emptied his thoughts.
Now he Crawled across the floor in search of crumbs, but he stood so that he looked tall.
The subtle surprise of the kingdom did not reflect off his legacy of request
He stood looking down a one way street that was constructed on his dead reasons.
There could be no end to this journey, but he might as well go.
It would take his focus off of this long wait for the end of his life.
There is needle at the top of his eye.
There is a shoe he wears inside of his foot.
There is a heart he keeps out back of his house.
There is a mask that he wears by himself.
He talks to shadows and he knows all their names.
What he doesn't know keeps us alive