A fire has risen above my tombstone hat.
I don’t want learning, or dignity,
or respectability.
I want this music and this dawn,
and the warmth of your cheek against mine.
The grief-armies assemble,
but I’m not going with them…
— Rumi
A fire has risen above my tombstone hat.
I don’t want learning, or dignity,
or respectability.
I want this music and this dawn,
and the warmth of your cheek against mine.
The grief-armies assemble,
but I’m not going with them…
— Rumi