my spare little apartment, the clothes should be hung up,
the books arranged, the desk with its clutter of papers
should be straightened. A spare life should be just that,
honed to its purpose. The Buddhist says that death
is so certain that we should live as though we are already dead.
And so I write these words for you, my friend, words written,
many, many years from now are written now by a man who lived
many, many years ago. A man whom death vacuumed away like carpet dust
has written on a blank piece of paper that you and he are specks
of the farthest star, that you and he are the stuff of the silent
clouds.mbembe milton smithI edited my profile at Doobix.com
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