The Foxes have their holes but the Son of Man hath nowhere but to lay his head.

[MANICHAEAN]

Hovering, the filament of the wings above,

Python grasped,

The imperceptible glancing whisper of a breath against the skin.

Contorting supple,

Muscular & arching,

Dahan, dahan, lang,

Transient equipoise of the hotel third floor,

Dry, desert air,

And a pause between the mortal & the gates of heaven,

I’m coming home Father,

That night in Dubai.

[Delta40]

You know, all I thought of here was war. some may hide, others cannot

[MANICHAEAN]

The contradictions of a writer Delta.

It comes from you, because its your creation.

But is it you in reality, hiding behind a fictional character, showing some cards & holding others?

As you say, some can hide.

Best wishes
M.

[Delta40]

oh please! not while I'm on lunch at work! I can't handle that head messing stuff lol.

[MANICHAEAN]

Bon appitite !
M