Moby Jane

I find this quite beautiful. From Gerry Gilbert's Moby Jane.

Touched by a beautiful sanity I've been tumbling home to
from visions of difference, the crazy cities of time inside the rain,
outside the sun, shining stone by stone, amounting to a small
pile at my feet of ideas to pick up & lick & throw skipping as far
as I can, as I can see, until they sink into blindness, falling to the
centre of attention. Beauty, the switch between light and gravity,
that doesn't look past being seen, tat being held feels no
weight, turns the actual on. We return to each other. Make life.
Each time. Home free.
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