Pace the palace wing, dethroned king
Jump when the phone ring
Egyptian cotton, but you can’t sleep, not a wink, not a wink
Pace the palace wing, dethroned king
Jump when the phone ring
Egyptian cotton, but you can’t sleep, not a wink, not a wink
“If at Sirmio
My soul, I meet thee, when this life’s outrun,
Will we not find some headland consecrated
By aery apostles of terrene delight,
Will not our cult be founded on the waves,
Clear sapphire, cobalt, cyanine,
On triune azures, the impalpable
Mirrors unstill of the eternal change?”
Ezra Pound | “Blandula, Tennula, Vagula”