"Behold, I am a dry tree."
~Isaiah 56:3
Sick.
I am so sick.
The clove smoke has cleared
but the screams of 1,000 angels
still rings in my ears.
I want to sleep catatonic for 1000 years
while 1000 minds rush around me trying to decide
Do NOT resusitate please...
Only I read Latin in my family.
The eloquence of the words
not properly formed
my thoughts I write in these.
I can no longer be alone
The cool face of the water
Beckons me for a kiss.