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FOR NOW
Tomorrow this poem willmost assuredly no longer be here,though when during the nightit will slip away, never againto be seen, I don’t know or perhaps itwill return in a form I would not recognize,recrafted by the hand of an unseen editor. It may take on a meaning unfamiliar,or translate itself into a tonguethat I can…
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THE BEAUTY OF DREAMS
The beauty of dreams is the plasticity of the mind when it passes the margin into sleep. As the new reality takes hold places and people are allowed to morph, the subconscious becomes sculptor, creating what never was from what is, writing the script, editing it, and all in real-time, the last act to be…