A 'Place' for Me, A Place I Must Know to Keep, Off Away Gone from HelloHiGreetings, Friend!



I imagine! Is there hope for imagination that incarnates from light's absence, shadows, nothingness? My hope now, Women, best be distant; in fear Ye eventually shun me, or perhaps from my utter stupidity in familiar tone You recoil; in the same kind of fear I know that only a glance a careful Hello suffices, not a love reciprocal from You for that meager, near-pathetic worship.

I need more distance than intimacy to keep this worship as a mental map, a soul-configuration functioning to give an initial-fake cisM a somewhat for which to live. . . perhaps I dare-to-add, too love.

I am "between" and never ought to be a "life of TheParty," an easy one to pass-by and let-it-stay-that-way. The ache of my viscera just needs to be staunched, and to die in such a stoppered-staunch merely seems to be the way She, Earth Mother, TheWombOfKosmos ordains.

To-day then I feel that imaginging is of slight importance compared to obedience. In this instant, then, I must look away from Hope, that Beauty, that vocative-mood of Hi. . . Sorry I ever wanted aught an aftermath of Hi.

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