Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Magic – more


#8 Magic – more

More than what? Than what I know,
defines everything. Clumsy and
wary of substitution, my ego flutters.
I hold on to magic, I was never good at
comprehending. The sea was always open,
I leapt out of my imagination into
the suffering. I deny my position,
my understanding of maps, ghost-walking
into counters of dry.

There’s a certainty in more than that.

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