Every fact is accompanied by the cutting edge of an epistemological knife, the wielding of which makes worlds.

poems

by Seth on January 2, 2009 · 0 comments

here shall words arrive
not on my lips, nor yours
but still caressed

a meeting of sorts
out of sorts
still always flowing

an uncovering of
of  what
what
will your tongue see
your eyes hear
our heart sing?

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  • wp socializer sprite mask 16px   poems
  • wp socializer sprite mask 16px   poems
  • wp socializer sprite mask 16px   poems
  • wp socializer sprite mask 16px   poems
  • wp socializer sprite mask 16px   poems
  • wp socializer sprite mask 16px   poems
  • wp socializer sprite mask 16px   poems
  • wp socializer sprite mask 16px   poems

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