my island, a crumb on the curled lip of the pacific
i feel at home there; a place almost as familiar to me
as the slender touch of water is along the fire-beds of
the conflagrant sun. am i foolish for believing these
illusions cast by my mind's eye? what other option do
we have, than to choose to live vicariously through
those reedy dances of our counterfeit dreams?
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SENSORY OVERRIDE
Poetrya philosophical midnight pilgrimage through elusive facets of feeling & healing
