Turtles of the Moon

I ought to have maintained my anonymity until the denouement, for it is there that our prospects would have thrived most auspiciously upon the uncharted horizon of the unknown.

The mere possibility of your transformation into the conjured metabolism of pataphysical existence weighed heavily upon my heart and mind as never before. I unwittingly ensnared myself in the role of a semi-demi doppelganger of Ulysses, thus sowing the seeds of my life's sabotage.

I would occasionally catch fleeting glimpses of grace in the glimmer of a wondrous, age-old ruin of impeccable provenance. Through the enchantment of that ancient relic, I sustained the illusion of your presence with a kind of marvelous grace.

Yet, as I struggled to regain my aesthetic maneuverability, I found myself compelled to make a sacrificial offering of your memory upon the altar of the immutable cosmological constants.

I carry you with me to my tomb, and perhaps even beyond, for you persist within me, omnipresent in every fractional unit of time. I remain ensnared in the inexorable gravity of your memory, as time itself begins to erode and lose its recollection of its own course.

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Dewdrops

Zorba- The Unknown

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The Ballads of Gravity

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