
Heraclitaurelianism
We streamed into the stream
The water we stood in
We stood in
Only once
We eventually returned to where
We came from
A desolate windy place
We began to melt away
We were consigned
I was not sorry
We had been
In time we’ll be again
Or we won’t

“If I didn’t write to empty my mind I’d go mad”
— Lord Byron
About istsfor manity
i'm a truncated word-person looking for an assemblage of extracted teeth in a tent full of mosquitoes (and currently writing a novel without writing a novel word) and pulling nothing but the difficult out of the top hat while the bunny munches grass in the hallway. you might say: i’m thee asynchronous voice over in search of a film....