a dream wrapped in one's skin -
stage fright for dying in a scroll I rewrote.
time mistaken,
and looking awkward on my ceiling.
a source,
until dirges are dusted into the sea.
papyrus wings floating about the sun,
a spark screaming from a gutter.
will-frog hopping on my cell's floor,
a stranger among grown-up newborns...
exhausted by friends who passed on to the last laugh.
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Nduduzo Makhathi
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On a lighter note, I can still see the quenching spark screaming from your guitar :)
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