He thinks, “come into the stillness.”
He thinks, “Grow wild, intoxicated.”
Perhaps, he thinks, we are cannonballs.
Perhaps we are glazed and dazzled,
drunk on clarity.
Must we be wiped off the earth?
He sits alone, at night, again.
Shuts off his memory.
He writes: “I am fine
I am fine
I am fine
open your eyes
I am fine.”
May 2, 2015
May 2, 2015 at 2:57 PM UTC
He thinks, “come into the stillness.”
He thinks, “Grow wild, intoxicated.”
Perhaps, he thinks, we are cannonballs.
Perhaps we are glazed and dazzled,
drunk on clarity.
Must we be wiped off the earth?
He sits alone, at night, again.
Shuts off his memory.
He writes: “I am fine
I am fine
I am fine
open your eyes
I am fine.”
Words taken from Doerr's All The Light We Cannot See
