SANCTUARY

This is POETRY. Allow me to repeat that: THIS is poetry. Poetry is protected SPEECH.

— We hide behind the stars and the wind and the lesser dread of withering. Stop asking any of it to make sense. I would have no idea what that means. It’s all cut up, and it makes no sense until you can read the blood between the lines…

It is distorted because all reality is distorted. included the reality of whatever time is you could say you know what time is but the hubris of making the claim, is so not so most people see time as unfolding when, in fact, everything is unfolding all at the same time. There is no up there is no down. There is only being or not being.