Keep it cool, keep it connected

The strut of ravens, the falling of sighs,
​I endured long before I was found
and long after––

Intimations from the corrupt gut,
the flavor that seeks favor. 

What was inhospitable turned out not so,
​what I turned out, disconsolate blues
uttered on a Columbus street corner.
Holy fool, tantra blind. Touching the divine.

I was not chasing her, finally, I was entering the sun.

I am guilty but then we all are of wanting
flesh, the substance that reaches out and 
impels us, does not quite sustain.

Arisugawa Park 1.6 - Basement - is coming.
​ ‪#‎endurancewriter‬

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