In The Pit Of Red You Hid

The World Rolls Under The Long Thrust Of His Heel. Over The Cage Floor The Horizons Come.

The Dreamer In Her Had Fallen In Love With Me And She Did Not Know It. That Moment The Dreamer In Me Fell In Love With Her And I Knew It

With A Sudden Sharp Hot Stink Of Fox, It Enters The Dark Hole Of The Head. The Window Is Starless Still; The Clock Ticks, The Page Is Printed.

The Only Calibration That Counts Is How Much Heart People Invest, How Much They Ignore Their Fears Of Being Hurt Or Caught Out Or Humiliated. And The Only Thing People Regret Is That They Didn't Live Boldly Enough, That They Didn't Invest Enough Heart, Didn't Love Enough. Nothing Else Really Counts At All.

And As If Reporting Some Felony To The Police They Let You Know You Were Not John Donne.