Category : Poems
Sub Category : N/A
Yes… who knows? The walls will break, dissolve into rock dust, the skies will turn black and our hope will flutter into the delightful mornings. How beautiful? At least I think it is. I can't ever say. The chatter will only live in the wind and the trees will live and so will the energy they take from us, that we once took from them. The gapes in our stomach will widen, along with the rest of us, and how scary and delightful to think, that is, for those of us who see our every waking movement.
- Jorge Romero Campos, Dicha Shin