Parading

Then a voice says ‘Next’

Beauty is not enough.

that scrubs clean

In another life, he was from Somalia

Someone looking for he knows not what.

Among all the clouds is only one that never moves

Hawking says there are two

I’m ready to dance or trance or toss our white heads,

Which is the least unreliable

you had to wonder where that going took us, but as Proust