Credo

Creo que si ... I believe it will rain tomorrow ... I believe the son of a bitch is going into the river ... I believe All men are created equal—By your leave a leafy shelter over the exposed person—I'm a believer creature of habit but without out there a void of pattern older older the broken pieces no longer salvageable bits but incommensurate chips yet must get it back together. In God we trust emptiness privilege will not not perish perish from this earth— In particular echo of inside pushes at edges all these years collapse in slow motion. The will to believe, the will to be good, the will to want a way out— Humanness, like you, man. Us—pun for once beyond reflective mirror of brightening prospect? I believe what it was was a hope it could be somehow what it was and would so continue. A plank to walk out on, fair enough. Jump! said the pirate. Believe me if all those endearing young charms ... Here, as opposed to there, even in confusions there seems still a comfort, still a faith. I'd as lief not leave, not go away, not not believe. I believe in belief ... All said, whatever I can think of comes from there, goes there. As it gets now impossible to say, it's your hand I hold to, still your hand.