…effortlessness is the supreme virtue, she sung, enclosing all my endeavors in a bundle of refuse. I wanted to know what one could do with it… would it be worth the effort to carry it around… but I was too afraid to ask. The songstress of the evening was terrifyingly effortless in all her motions… from the slightest twitch of her lips to the smoothest tossing of her brilliant black hair… this movement was so smooth, that before one could realize, the night was upon them. Uncertain, I looked at the bundle. What do I do with this… is it my life’s worth… could I toss it aside without a care… and float with the sinister moon and his cloudy adornments?.. and I fell asleep…

…who took the bundle, I do not know… but I woke up lighter than the clouds… closer to the moon than I’d ever been… I felt my spirit float effortlessly with my voice… and it rose high… and I sang… of the songstress of evening and of the songster of night…


    1. What else do we have if we question poetry dear angel in the dust. I’ll go with, Yes I did! 😀

  1. each and every you seem to reach in and take my heart right along with you and I adore you and your writing for it! Most beautiful ocean if there ever was!

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