There is fog outside.
\nA spring fog in November.
\nA day before the pieces
\nare brought together.
\nLight passing through
\nthe walls of the world.
\nTrees disengaged in a
\nremorseful gray.
\nI disown this caretaker
\nof winter stories,
\nlooking for dreams.<\/p>\n
Creation is penned inside me.
\nEvery atom ticking to eternity.
\nWhile I am changeless,
\nout there,
\nin that drab world,
\nthe world is burning out,
\nand I refuse to join it,
\nthought by thought I am
\nas remarkable as a star,
\nas self created as a god.
\nI am a child of another place
\nembraced by what I know.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
There is fog outside. A spring fog in November. A day before the pieces are brought together. Light passing through the walls of the world.…<\/p>\n