Richard Ronald Allan

I am inclined to trust you. You shouldn__ be like that with another man, not ever; but I can__ help it. I felt it strongly from the instant I heard your voice; and though I thought momentarily that it would falter, it didn__. It__ still here. You see, the essence of trust is not knowing a person__ motive; it__ knowing what isn__. It__ a simple process of trial and error that gets you to the heart of a man; and once that soft voice and those light feet of yours got to moving I saw in you no measure of ill intent.

If I could make people feel, just for a day or an hour, what it__ like to love with infiniteness, then they would be animals no longer, but some greater creature, deserving of that title human. I__e bettered a day though. On earth, they will have it thus: from birth to unavoidable death, a man is pumped so full of love that his eyes bleed rainbows and his mouth a barrel of miracles. His hands will heal then make monuments to commemorate it; they__l press tight and pray for no man, no god but himself; and his mind_ his mind will shower like spring rains. He will steal away from the shadow of ambition. He__l be his own sun and light up the world with new marvels _ be they art, philosophies, science _ and in his brightness put the mundane, not himself, in shadows, and how rightfully. Each a captain and a maker, a mark-setter and stealer of shows... Earth__ skies will clap with the thunder of our majesty, not with violence, doubt, confusion, futility, and monotony; anything _ anything _ but the dull drone of duplication and robo-behaviour.

How would it alter Juliet__ love perception to learn the sea is but a rounded jug of water? Would her sensuous analogy turned simple simile unveil to her the limits of herself? Or would she forget the ocean, that deplorable casket, and turn on the true bottomless tumbler, the only running tap: the sky? It may have lost the title __eavens_ when its gods were dethroned, but its infinity reigns. So long as you walk, it reigns. So long as I talk and you listen, there__ a voice and ears to keep it active, moving, and reason to say: look! infinity lives. And when we and the other consciousnesses pass, though it in part dies with us, still it reigns. It will, in a sense, plod on, like a lifeless coffin through its own space, sails set for nothing, unstoppable when trailing its fabric.

She captured the spot of my world__ centre and sent me in elliptic rings about it, causing the ground beneath me to vanish and the breath of my lungs to disperse. I was a rock locked in helpless orbit.

Let me not anchor you to a bed of weary rocks, but let me be the kite__ string that guides you in your flight.

Carry me like change in your pocket and spend me as you wish.