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Child on the stairs, looking into the unknown, with unwavering eyes, feels at home. Ascetic on the move, shedding ashes in the wind, to find golden embers, feels hungry. Sleepy early birds, getting ready to sing, watch the fifth sky, turn blue. Unrelated on the surface, yet asseverate they all do, the dissolving weights, of cosmic alchemy. T

Try as you may, to keep the bubble, of your frail existence, burst it will. Cosmeticize to your heart’s content, miseries and trophies of a life lived, on terms made by your growing self, your indepen