The night is false, sometimes the night is.
Sometimes I let myself be part of it, you see, I am a coward.
We let ourselves into the garden; how grandeur, how want. The lost soft supple abstract.
“when any mortal(even the most odd)
can justify the ways of man to God i’ll think it strange that normal mortals can
not justify the ways of God to man”
e e cummings
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