We fire. We slake. We reach across space as if reaching through and we step inside. Oh what comfort we find there what peace and we believe we are so young and others say it is so we believe this peace can be shared not just with one or with a few but with all.
And so we applied mind to love and determined we could spread and all we needed to do was change and we were capable of change it was within us and we assumed that love was one thing and always good and only good could come from it.
We meet. We touch.

We fall into while out of and next comes news it says others suffer. It says rivers run red with blood and it's not a metaphor. It says you must change.

Your toys. Your finery. While they starve while they're murdered.

How can we touch each other so gently in the heart of ruin?

It's like a fire this passion to make new the world like us with tenderness we will all touch out of love.


What word more used then than love?