The impoverished of experience
judge the free spirits
Those who dance through summer
even winter
Lovingly revered in fantasias
beings from another planet
Their ability to love atrophied.
Even so, with palpable incongruity they are loved.
Everything is connected across space and time.
A soft inner whimpering
a drift
into
an abyss
of frost and stars.
Alone.
And so, begins my TRAUERLAUFBANH
My career in mourning.
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