What is it that keeps me attached
to the words? I live and learn
that Nature knows no sorrow—
maybe I shouldn’t either—
and has no use of ‘assuage’.
Perhaps the well-spoken have it easier,
but how would I know? After all, longing
is a wordless song.
More words to ponder at maciejmodzelewski.com
I find green on blue rather disturbing, especially in their radiant, sun-drenched shades, which sounds a good deal sillier now, when I said it out loud. It’s like thinking you’ve married a woman and then, the day after the fair, realising that she’s a mother first and foremost and that she’ll turn you into a walking wallet once you’ve done your marital duty. But that’s evolution for you. Genes don’t give a tinker’s curse about your dreams and aspirations—their one goal is to replicate. If only there were a way to give them the middle finger once and for all.
More words to ponder at maciejmodzelewski.com
hidden pilcrow 