Sunlight on wilted flower petals, and ants circumambulating their shadows. There is a paradox in every breathe, my daily offering of carbon monoxide. Take what you will, for this is all I have. The fragmentation of reincarnated selves, the recognition of reflection, embedded in petals, palms, prayers and penniless passengers to trips into our dreams. Wake no more, yet seek. Send forth for shadowed traces of our floating consciousness; our thoughts, coexisting in the air of breathing light. It shines upon us, even as we wilt; and weathered, the rims of our closed eyelids, the curvature outlined with fingertips.
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missinterpreted reblogged this from footnotestohappiness and added:
Bravo! Bravo! beautiful.
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windmillingbill liked this
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footnotestohappiness posted this
