These words are meant for typing, no pen and paper today.
There is a meaning to all of this, a swirl of beauty for me to collect together and make sense of.
It will happen, I’m sure of it.
This one is a dark one, a beautiful one and a strange one.
Intelligent and unschooled, untamed.
He is the most Lost of them all, I think, and one who sunk in without intention on anybody’s part.
An accidental friend, a side effect that turned into a function all his own.
I’m writing to commemorate, I think, as I’m scared that this beauty is about to be altered by institution.
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