jeffscanlon
O what a grand description of life. O what a strange study.
That day in the train station we walked up and saw the heavens. We saw the constellations shining bright before our eyes. They were intricate like a work of God, yet most clearly formed by hand: boasting creature forms. We ascended to meet them face-to-face. We proceeded to greet them. And in shaking their hands we asked them to explain to us by whose hands they were formed. And though they moved about and tried their best to explain in gesture and word, our answer was only revealed in a stationary, solitary moment.
braces for the teeth and pieces for the mouth. braces for the back of the back and supports supporting the arch of my foot. cold and sore is the metal, with cold sores on my lips. the metal aches and teases, it aint pretty but it is good. Down deep it is a great good. and your embrace, it is the most warm and tender of fine metals.
counsel the soles of my feet,
councils on the solstice of the sun.
consolation for my soles, consolation for my soul.