mixedmocca

There is a fire in your eye and a light in your heart, And the whole world is an infinitely vast ocean Fluctuating and beating to the pulls of the sky; The whole world is an ocean of speckled epitaphs           and this, my friend, is ours. Atlas may stay the sky, but we have always carried its tears. We stand on the crest of this world balanced by silver thread, Our hands laden with breaking reflections and queer visages, Our wells and canals overflowing, lapping at our heels as strays. We kneel as cripples and consume ourselves to become an idea, An idea before a temple so precious, we turned our backs on love; The topless spires like