Twenty-nine steps, you count to three. fifty-two crossed and feet move free. Summer nights we both can foresee. Twenty-one held, don’t you agree.

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Face turned on time gone,

sage wisdom lost to a song.

Soundless garland scent.

Eyes wide open,

throat sore

singing songs

of the blind.

Line drawn

on line,

drunk on vanity

all a waste

of your time.

Foes closer

than friends,

when they

come in disguise.

Shutters cut out

the heat,

inner red

overflowing,

endurance is

when you

do not die.

Eyes wide open,

throat sore

singing songs

of the blind.

Line drawn

on line,

drunk on vanity

all a waste

of your time.

Foes closer

than friends,

when they

come in disguise.

Shutters cut out

the heat,

inner red

overflowing,

endurance is

when you

do not die.

Words about words,

tapping on a window

like rain.

Togetherness is not

a withered field,

it is three thousand

great thousand worlds,

dew posted

on every blade of grass.

Eyes sleep,

hearts do not;

outgrew the boy,

then again the real man,

long nights

summon clarity

of existence.