Everything is going to be okay. I'm going to be okay, and you're going to be okay. Just breathe and let the world spin. the world may go on...
or it may not.
for truly this is the only
choice you must make.
The night is only a sort of carbon paper,
Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of stars
Letting in the light, peephole after peephole --
A bonewhite light, like death, behind all things.
Under the eyes of the stars and the moon's rictus
He suffers his desert pillow, sleeplessness
Stretching its fine, irritating sand in all directions.