Adnate To the Funicle

Accepting aloneness, incomplete solitude, imperfect rest. The garden wasted, pumpkin patch planted late, potatoes untasted left in ground. A thousand email addresses, each unique represents a flame of passion, compassion, desperation or depression. To understand, to know's impossible. It is therefore only reasonable to observe the shadows on the mountain, the actions of the dreamer which tell us something, little, nothing of his dream. It's a simple secret shared, longevity. The half breed John Russell says it right, the date and place don't matter, dry desert or cold mountainside, lush bottomland, soulless or hospitable, contagious hospital. The best laugh's death's, a perfect escape, perfect error, perfect rest. Their solicitude's unnecessary, grief is temporary, life goes on, you go under, underemployed, the undertaker's never unemployed. Forensics prove an ovary with two chambers, ovule adnate to the funicle.