*early morning thoughts*

a whole lot of nothing came from standing still,

i had to put the ink to the paper to make this world real.

the black bird’s song owns this morning

just outside the dripping glass, tripping fast, this moment seemed so long

but moments never last longer than the instant they are preserved to memory and forever looked back upon…

i don’t want to look over my shoulder any more and explain with a smile while someone’s dying over a thought best left alone.

i don’t want to think about those to be bleed and those to be blest…

the west can never lay the east to rest.

eric w. desselle