(no subject)
i wonder what rome is like now. in the darkness of my mind i picture terrible things, beautiful only in their sacrifice. its around this time of year when thoughts tended to wander towards l'amour out of cynical disillusinment. now roma its cobble stone streets and marble fountains formed in ephemeral eternity. the constant flow of water cutting and detracting from the toils of the time of artisans and craftsman.
we stand on the shoulders of atlas and take time to venture from our sphere of being. we write script of unfashioned glory yet fading in its guileless wit. transcend words and glance into a silence. does it whispher in your ear?
our words are empty in the nature of language fluid.
goodbye
we stand on the shoulders of atlas and take time to venture from our sphere of being. we write script of unfashioned glory yet fading in its guileless wit. transcend words and glance into a silence. does it whispher in your ear?
our words are empty in the nature of language fluid.
goodbye