If I Rest, If I Think Inward,

I Laid My Face To The Smooth Face Of The Marble And Howled My Loss Into The Cold Salt Rain.

I Couldn’t See The Point Of Getting Up. I Had Nothing To Look Forward To.

The Woman Is Perfected. Her Dead Body Wears The Smile Of Accomplishment.

I Am Gone Quite Mad With The Knowledge Of Accepting The Overwhelming Number Of Things I Can Never Know, Places I Can Never Go, And People I Can Never Be.

I Ride Earth's Burning Carousel. Day In, Day Out.