O it’s so fine to Get Up from resting a night
upon her white bossom!
— of her now dead but once beating heart.
Yesterdays i do remember when the sun came up
and tomorrow’s were yesterday’s thoughts. Oh I
grieve now(with romantic phrasing that could never
ever capture that moment of pure love) death is not living
but death surely is remembering.

AND how angels stretch
their undying necks/ remembering what mortals call moments.

cosmic love giggles.

But i am still unborn. Less than a fetus of cosmic life.

Today is a long memory from birth to now. And I have learned
very little.

Forgive me.

:: 09.15.2021 ::

About EPRobles

Writer, Artist. I like to paint abstract acrylic images onto canvas. I love to read everything, and I especially enjoy science, philosophy, and the arts. I'm new to the blog experience and I very much enjoy it! I hope to learn as much about all the features that WordPress offers and thank you -- my visitor -- for taking time to read my words. Peace and love... View all posts by EPRobles

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