I turn on the water
I sit, causally(casually)(lly), utterly nonchalant! In my somewhat!
Warm! Cold! Bath!
Of languages! As !Y!Y!E!T!
Except in the heart of the course depths of a heart!
U!p! In s!O!U'N!Dssss!
And it sounds!
In the distance!
Like three talon($sssssss) claws!
The Fish eagle cries!
And I try to write down his sounds!
Tseuo Tesuo! Tesoo!
In the limits of Roman Al,ph!'abe•tical sounds!
And yet, the night breeze, I sensed, it became a hurricane in the morning, my dream, in it as though truth itself, is to know that night breeze, as though in romance- to romance the mystery of the hidden truth. For I love the night breeze, which so few yet can sense.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Posted by Marc Evan Aupiais at 9:03 AM
Dad; Husband; Christian (Catholic); Irish. — News; Business; History; Civilizations; The Western World; Speech; Culture; Law. (Pronounced: Aw-Pea-Air.)
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