Many things we know are an illusion;
Love -- I thought I heard breath's soft guarantee --
Was born of Neptune, child of deception;
I knew not that I slept, I couldn't foresee.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
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Wanderlust
- Stevie
- There, on the horizon, the sun hovers. Watch how she beckons. She asks us to run away, the sunset drawing every molecule of our being into it. And it's no wonder we wish we could fly.
