(24 July 1725 – 21 December 1807 / London, England)


Tonight inside this melt, black, filled with a million
Tiny sweet and hot, dropping bits and of rain.
Like her, the Moon Full howlin’ passions flame
As beats of hearts pound in time till time again
When they meet again to talk with eyes

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A spiritual nourishment of the Soul. R.I.P John.