Everyone Forgets Icarus Also Flew.

But Anything Worth Doing Is Worth Doing Badly. Like Being There By That Summer Ocean On The Other Side Of The Island While Love Was Fading Out Of Her, The Stars Burning So Extravagantly Those Nights That Anyone Could Tell You They Would Never Last.

We Exist With A Wind Whispering Inside And Our Moon Flexing. Amid The Ducts, Inside The Basilica Of Bones.

How Astonishing It Is That Language Can Almost Mean, And Frightening That It Does Not Quite.

What We Feel Most Has No Name But Amber, Archers, Cinnamon, Horses And Birds.

Why Do So Manysettle For So Little? I Don't Understand Why They're Not Greedy For What's Inside Them.