I offer you what I have my Poverty

So this is what I am Pondering his eyes that could not Conceive that I was a creature to run from I who have always believed too much in words

To say what or where we came from has nothing to do with what or where we came from. We do not come from there any more, but only from each word that proceeds out of the mouth of the unnamed. And yet sometimes it is our only way of pointing to who we are.

We are the echo of the future.

Of course there is nothing the matter with the stars It is my emptiness among them While they drift farther away in the invisible morning

I have with me all that I do not knowI have lost none of it.

Send me out into another life lord because this one is growing faint I do not think it goes all the way