Poets

Pick up castaway skates and glide across frozen pavements. Point-blank honed, cut into the surface and let the legs with the skates be one.

My friend is an existentialist. He collects china and Japanese teapots. You get the best cup of tea at his place. Steeped to perfection. It may not be a true ceremony but in our drinking, when we sit around the table,

Forgive me for being so inconsiderate praise from the people close to you matters most love is a rushing homeland on a bicycle and war only frightful news on people's tongues