A heel is not a hammer
But whatever fulfills
The function of a god
Is a God.
I feel, when you sleep beside me,
The touch of your familiar breath
On my mouth.
It is in this place
Where, through some concentration
Of emptiness,
That ghosts are changed into men…
From Gazette.
And, through sea-green Memory, concentrated,
a man turned to Spirit, and turning,
the brazen tagline of an arc and lasting flare.
Love & grace, Mr. T, here, there & everywhere.