Even If You're Going To Die, You

We Stumble On, Thinks Jaslyn, Bring A Little Noise Into The Silence, Find In Others The Ongoing Of Ourselves. It Is Almost Enough.

The Stars Looked Like Nail Heads In The Sky--pull A Few Of Them Out And The Darkness Would Fall.

Memory Has A Heavy Backspin, Yet It’s Still Impossible To Land Exactly Where We Took Off.

...and It Strikes Her, As She Walks, That Borders, Like Hatred, Are Exaggerated Precisely Because Otherwise They Would Cease To Exist Altogether.

The Point Of Flight. To Get Rid Of Oneself. That Was Reason Enough To Fly.