THE HIDDEN TRACK

The following passages are dedicated to Leopold, to the vernacular, to certain evil women (you know who you are), to certain wonderful people(they know who they are), to soft afternoons and quiet Sunday evenings, to Fall and seeing your breath for the first time since Spring, and to Isabelle Ya Feng ... a soul slipped by like two ships passing in the still, moonlit sea.
-- Abraham Ahmed, the Surfing Beatnik



The Shadows Left by the Great Unitice...

Lo! and hear the motions of my breath forming the message that I have for you. I am Unitice and I come pressing upon you like David wading through the masses at the shores of a great sea. The noon-day sun has risen to the peak of this - this only day never to be repeated in forthcoming times.

The wages of work and toil are all but a facade you create to abstain from your true loves and your desires.

The spoils of love you thresh through your fingers are none but acts in a play with music orchestrated by you alone.

Follow my finger to the horizon and venture the distance of many days walk for your time in this place, in this place in this time, with whomever you dwell with is drawing close to its end. Take heed, for your friends are but foes and your loved ones are digging the soil from your feet to keep you from exodus.

Stop and consider the treetops waving in the thrush and the birds circling patiently, waiting for their moment to land on a twig of safe keeping.

Remember the words of my father who spoke so eloquent, "As the finer possessions tarnish and as hardest woods burn to Cinders: what is left of you and what is left by you?"

It is these eleven words of common question I have commit to seek.

Chloe, my love and heart's desire, I beseech you, of all these, to trade your asps for meadows and your golds for wheats of a far off land. I long, in the early morning hours, that you shall rise to the motions of my breath forming the message that I have for you.

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