Beloved,
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| I have heard the sounds of great solitude, Not a soul to talk to, | ||||||
| just the silence in my head and occasionally an imaginary | ||||||
|
cri...cri...cricket. I was awestruck. The imaginary cricket was | ||||||
| fucking with my head - fucking and fucking with my head. | ||||||
|
I was awestruck.
| ||||||
| To escape this dangerous situation I needed a counterpoint: a | ||||||
| companion. I started changing my focus, widening the view and | ||||||
|
scanning the added rings of my perception. Not a soul in sight.
| ||||||
| Nevertheless, while searching I found another | ||||||
| cri...cri...cricket. A companion to my original one. I witnessed | ||||||
|
an immediate bondage, a click.
| ||||||
| And now, my silent love, I have these two imaginary crickets in | ||||||
| this vast SEE of solitary silence and they are fucking with my | ||||||
|
head - fucking and fucking with my head.
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|
Cri...Cri...Crickets. I am awestruck.
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|
yours forever your sunset/sunrise forever yours yours forever yours
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