And oh, that thing, that monstrous thing called feeling?
It gives me life and steals it.
It fills up my lungs and pours out my mouth in flowers and poison, daisies and hemlock.
I wonder if anyone has tasted anything quite like this before.
No, that can’t be true, because if they had—
I must be able to see the wakes of their ship souls from here!
But no… that’s not true, either.
The sun and moon meet every so often,
And the universe watches in ferocious enthrallment.
Tell me, friends on the horizon, ships ferrying dusk and dawn bright eyes:
How many worlds will we ruin and raise with our floral venom thoughts?