Today, all is well.
Today, indeed, I’m hale and well,
I have enough to eat and I am not in danger.
But this life is fleeting, unreliable,
My body is like something briefly lent.
Shantideva
this will be my last poem
so that i remember. because before melted steel, there was hand-made, better, buttered words. we can decide if new spaces beneath me can qui...
