A Friend Is Someone Who Gives You

Death Makes Angels Of Us All And Gives Us Wings Where We Had Shoulders Smooth As Ravens Claws.

The Subject Says: I See First Many Things Which Dance... Then Everything Gradually Becomes Connected.

I Pressed Her Thigh And Death Smiled

We Are Content In The 'given' In Sensation's Quest. We Have Been Metamorphosised From A Mad Body Dancing On Hillsides To A Pair Of Eyes Staring In The Dark.

You Live You Die And Death Not Ends It.