The Journey With minted teeth, lights out, eyes closed, relaxed, on Egyptian cotton, eider down and heckled flax we disembark on distant lands and run barefoot on endless sands find loves long lost on unfamiliar shores commune with ghosts of long forgotten wars to fill our heads with other worldly dreams is to quench our thirsts from crystal streams until eight times twelve the minute hand has passed and from our glimpse of Eden we are cast Eric Pinkerton  ¶ 12:35 pm