precipice raze the clouds gave up all the love they'd been hoarding one day too soon, and now all is buried beneath water that's been gentled into luminous crystals by half a glacier's quartz heart. i want to stand at the bluff of a mountain no sane soul would ever try to climb and press my tongue to that smooth stone so i can feel the chill move into me, breathing scrawny promises about the tensile strength of snow. i want to spit out smoke to better taste what's been cooking me to keep me fed. everything i touch is bound to fall to pieces, but not this. never this. 220213 ... epitome of incomprehensibility I can't hold an obsidian candle to this rock face of surreal beauty; it makes me recall writing "precipitous precipice" in a teenage notebook, but that's just crunchy word salad. 220214 ... raze that's so kind of you to say, e_o_i. but you should know that your candles burn in a way that's wonderfully and uniquely you. i always come back to something you wrote on shooting_star last year, when this place was just starting to roar back to life: "facts explain this without taking away the wonder. same with the stars. we can draw connecting rather than separating lines between the subjective and objective, perception and reality." the lines you draw are staggering in their beauty. it's a gift to watch you ink them here. 220214 ... e_o_i Aww, thanks! I was just trying to describe why looking at stars calmed me down. As for precipices... I wish my parents getting a dog didn't feel like me jumping off a cliff. You'd THINK one's parents getting a dog would be entirely unlike jumping of a cliff. It's a cliff that might or might not hurt me, but things will definitely be different. 220216 what's it to you? who go blather from