To find purpose. To find the ocean and wonder
how difficult it would be
to become a fish
to fight in water
to swim and not drown,
tattoo the wave upon one's back,
aye.
I offer you the cracked words of a beggar. I am haunted by my present madness, my future sorrow, and the small music of old loves; beautiful women that have stolen all my organs after they have kissed me to sleep. And please check out the blog of my fellow wordsmith, Daniel Damen Huron, at www.ReportToAnAcademy.blogspot.com.
He is the next great American novelist. Mark my words, Internet.
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