In an effort to get people to look into each other’s eyes more, and also to appease the mutes, the government has decided to allot each person exactly one hundred and sixty-seven words, per day. When the phone rings, I put it to my ear without saying hello. In the restaurant I point at chicken noodle soup. I am adjusting well to the new way. Late at night, I call my long distance lover, proudly say I only used fifty-…
Beauty is best served with a tinge of melancholy.
> And when this we rightly know
> Thro the World we safely go
> Joy & Woe are woven fine
> A Clothing for the soul divine
> Under every grief & pine
> Runs a joy with silken twine
Blake