On a lightrail ride from a plasma bank.
Once said a wiser man than I:
“…remember to live before you die.”
Well, if you’re dreaming half your life
and the Sandman sprinkles the rest of your time
over lucid landscaped mystery,
a potpourri of litanies,
then where must the beginning be,
if the end’s no end and the present is free?
So, am I doing this advice due justice
by living to live—or is that just selfish?
By loving to love—or is that what lust is?
Well, if I want the answers, I will do what I must: This.
