The soul is no longer honored as it once was, but it still keeps appetite from being the measure of all things.

Fame now wears the halo that once crowned holiness.

Fantasy mirrors desire. Imagination reshapes it.

In youth, love and art. In age, investments and antiques.

The best hand always believes in playing by the rules.

Repetition comforts me for a time, then closes in.

I know that I am what I am. But I am not sure what I am.