Fan letters filled with hawk feathers. Sticking them in paper like Razor blades into wrists. Drawing life from the abyss; Weatherman predicts clouds And rain.
Gray and Grains in the camera; Dharma, I And Karma took the photo Of the millennia. Deep in the Congo Jungle, we stumbled across a tribal Ensemble praising Pluto.
Smoke rising from the tribunal pyre. Through the moonlight you could see the Galaxy swirling with each gust.
Their lack of attire made their skin shine Brilliantly in the dark reflections of the fire. The sweat. The song. The symmetry. The immensity Of it all was entrancing. We dived into the celebration of Existence with little regard of our path. It was a step forward we'll never take back.