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🔥🔥🌞Happy Equinox🌞🔥🔥.

"The unfinished or destroyed work—Canetti’s book against death, Tarkovsky’s film about forgetting, Dragomir’s notebooks on Time, Blecher’s novel, The Tomb; and many, many others, sometimes reborn from the pen of the same writer, other times as a haunting in someone else’s text…

Among the first things I ever wrote were epitaphs for those who did not have one, in the village cemetery, always carrying a pen and small pieces of paper in the pockets of my flowered dresses. I find myself now writing epitaphs for these works." --@dreamsofbeing_

Choice Morsels from the Bouzingo.

      "Vixen

Comet of stillness princess of what is over
   high note held without trembling without voice without sound
aura of complete darkness keeper of the kept secrets
   of the destroyed stories the escaped dreams the sentences
never caught in words warden of where the river went
   touch of its surface sibyl of the extinguished
window onto the hidden place and the other time
   at the foot of the wall by the road patient without waiting
in the full moonlight of autumn at the hour when I was born
   you no longer go out like a flame at the sight of me
you are still warmer than the moonlight gleaming on you
   even now you are unharmed even now perfect
as you have always been now when your light paws are running
   on the breathless night on the bridge with one end I remember you
when I have heard you the soles of my feet have made answer
   when I have seen you I have waked and slipped from the calendars
from the creeds of difference and contradictions
   that were my life and all the crumbling fabrications
as long as it lasted until something that we were
   had ended when you are no longer anything
let me catch sight of you again going over the wall
   and before the garden is extinct and the woods are figures
guttering on a screen let my words find their own
   places in the silence after the animals"

--WS Merwin via Verse Daily

Mural of a Refugee.