I Blundered Into Writing.

I Blundered Into Writing.

Meaning Grows In The Mind, But The Shape And Form Of The Act Remains.

I Do Not Know If All Cops Are Poets, But I Know That All Cops Carry Guns With Triggers.

God Is Love, I Said, But Art's The Possibility Of Forms, And Shadows Are The Source Of Identity.

Perhaps To Lose A Sense Of Where You Are Implies The Danger Of Losing A Sense Of Who You Are.