Friday, December 18, 2009

Read All About It

Beneath the surface of the senses
lies a land that simply is.
But when you land within its borders
there’s not a surface overhead.

There are no borders; there is no land;
there’s not a ‘you’ to understand.
There are no words; there’s not a poem;
there’s only bliss of this—unread.

~Son Rivers 2009

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