First there is the outsider.Then there is a second outsider—lessOutside than the first, but still.Then there is the third outsider,Who is now, actually, inside something,Albeit something slightly less definable.Eventually we all move togetherInto some kind of sanctuary,An estuary,Until someone decides to leave again.And the thorn birds are preening their violet plumageIn the topmost branches of […]
Source : Toy Apple Beauty
