Thursday, October 20, 2016

Robert Verdon, #334, candle of history

cylindrical walls surround this candle that no one sees that keeps burning like a sanctuary lamp in an endless gentle draft its wax drawn from the blind world held aloof and hot enough to melt steel joyless plasma on a wick of time not even a moth knows its heat nor a bee its light it is silent as its mausoleum a sun unknown outside unknown never guttering or dying imagine what we could do with it if we only thought about it


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