I’m coming with a hammer and breaking your bell jar.
Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light ,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths,
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
Restless Souls. So much to say, so much wishing. Meet me at the upstairs booth at Vesuvio. Tell me your life story. Tell your troubles, your secrets, your dreams; or not. Just drink if you want to. You earned it.