You whose mouths are made in the image of god’s
Mouths which are older itself
Be indulgent when you compare
Ills who seek adventure everywhere
To those who were the ideal of order
We are not your enemies
We want to offer you vast and strange domains
Where the blossoms of mystery are to be gathered
Where there are new fires of colour never seen
A thousand imponderable phantasms
Which we have to make real…
Apollinaire
*Mouths which are ORDER itself
ReplyDelete