knowest thou of my proclivities for the perverted and the asinine. "Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate." knowest thou of my struggles to reclaim the third sphere of heaven. i await thee.
Thursday, January 4, 2007
Clear Skies
It was a beautiful night. Clear and devoid of stars. For some reason, it seemed to me natural, that the moon if she so chooses could reign supreme in the skies. She might wish for the stars' companionship once in a while but alone, she's pure--beauty and light. If I were the moon, I would not retreat from the world or hide behind the curtain of clouds. My light would shine forth in bursts of joy and love.
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