Seen enough. The vision was met with in every
air.
Had enough. Sounds of cities, in the evening and
in the sun and always.
Known enough. Life's halts.-----O Sounds and
Visions!
Departure in new affection and new noise.
Arthur Rimbaud
The world is a poem. Sentient beings write the world-poem every day, thus creating the world; breathing, dreaming, waking, walking, kissing, arguing, racing, crawling, on our knees, suspended in mid jump over a gutter, sleeping under a tree, toiling at work, digging deeper. Join me.
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