The Day is Not Their...

[The Cove]

Promises kept, held onto, no matter the weather. The unwritten rules that need not be mentioned; and when they would be - become something else. The unbroken paradigm: the one that cannot break because then {rather when} it would (never could) be one.

Concepts above, emotions bellow - the dust settles... within sounding, calling clarion out - a invoked generation of issue between the two; becomes a common course of discursive discourse. Follow along the hound, follow along the speckless maiden, dusk chasing the false dawn of ideas time worn.

If I retain the dubious right to be a constant beginner in all things under the carpeted table - what blunted arrows (weeping sparrows seething) must in, in sired conclusion fall, gently spinning, by the way of all these; the counted & renumerated those, the flying diamonds of deed.

Off topic occult is my living room - my backyard; fallen to winter frost and various grades of degrading dogshit.

Lessons, lavicious, lessons of the master to the wall, to the walled door, in the deed.

At Your Service -

The One and Only Fire Burning Benign in The Cove