The Deal

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ᾦ 

 “The pleasures of heaven are with me, and the pains of hell are with me,

The first I graft and increase upon myself…the latter I translate into a new tongue.”

-Walt Whitman

Thoughts are like weather: the lightening flash in the dark; an icy blast of winters’ whiteout; and rain that washes all that was away;

Some of the days are interrupted by dark skies…they glower and boom…and block the light, this tropical light.

We made a trade, my devil and I…to give up this; and grant me that…but devils never keep their bargains, they don’t have to.

 

Thoughts are like animals: that skitter and crawl…then leap and strike or slowly strangle…so we keep them, in this cage or not…this box, this jar, this leather leash that lets us lie to ourselves.

Some of the days are mild as lambs…warm breezes pushing a breath of heaven…that whispers across the palms.

We made a trade, a simple bargain…a finely printed, claused and codiciled version of what could never be…

 

Thoughts are like streaming water: falling…babbling brooks that rush and scatter…to join the same sea.

Some of the days are like silence…where small bits of the cosmos line up in mute praise of whatever.

That trade?………………..what was it?

how strange…

 

 

I don’t remember.

But here…each night,

the waves reflect the light of a thousand stars…

 

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~ by theoxherd on July 28, 2016.

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