Then the bones blossomed

a manifesto for tomorrow

Of course, we could write nothing at all. We could burn the papers. Drain the ink. Wipe the letters off the pages and leave them clean. We could run until we stopped tasting thought on our tongues. We could forget. But I do not want to drown, but to gasp for breath on the surface, sink a thousand times and return, strengthen my gills and learn to breathe water and speak fire.