Brightening spirit within the dancing coloured lights when the words will not reveal their mystery in their memories of twinkling feelings
Sunday, August 19, 2012
The Master and I
Wine in the evening corrupting dream in the morning my feet need walking and my stomach bread am thinking of names of places I may have heard of but have never really known or have visited the day stands out before me it is Sunday and life has quietened itself somehow and I changed my shoes to the shoes that I had fallen on doing myself a little physical damage and being grateful to the master for letting me away so easily and the master is the master of the gift the gift that can never be mine because I can't bestow on myself I just have to take it as far as I can take it and hand it back to the master
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