Yesterday was your birthday Tristan.
Imagine a world without you. No one
can do that. I can't and I'm not . Even there . Where the.
breath. take time relieving its posthumous giving .
So the breath. taketime coming its other self.
as you did worked your prosepoem and verse watched over.
clocked the sky work its cat self and cumulus urge.
( since some think they do they wrong as the long phonetic of your name proves.
apriori to the panpan of the bearing swan of the Saint-Sulpice church I found you.)If I call you father im no bastard.but dada's son
hipped in the high cloud of desire ~
Nothing is annuled by the last lamp.
its burial wakes the nuance
cunning as the factory bears furtive fruit.
everyone hears the white wind of the cuckoo clock
___________________________
walked your Paris in the tune.
future to your utopian kept promise ~
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A world without you?I cant no one
does either pushing up the hill their shuttering
rock the slab a mere cadence to the whip.
and a fly knows wheat than this. it's love love love
~ .
