The many Cases of face

Where breathes the birch?  The black smells of dusk stab the pores and we all face our neighbor with a tragic familiarity.  We are one another, and the magpie takes flight from a bowl of pudding into a sunset of false bread.  Our love is colorless, odorless, tasteless--but we hold it in, a breath before submergence. And savor every second that we are deprived the reality of necessity.                    --cb

Bruno: Our pie is an amalgam of blood and consciousness.  We hide the simple elements of what makes us.  The substance of life's nature is as real as the crust in our morning eyes.

The Brain: Time stops only at the moment when a person first thinks of what time is.  It is within this realm that ethics lives like a child.

Uncle Zed: I remember now there was a band called Dred Zepplin.  Tortelvis gave his life so that we may all somehow understand that 'bottomless' only  means that there is an entity somewhere that refills the emptiness.

Luca: Please, Lord, make Eternity a goal for the tired and broken.  Give those with spirit a chance to destroy themselves.  Let us not gain appreciation without experience.

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