...he lived | Through that which had been death to many men | And made him friends of mountains: with the stars | And the quick Spirit of the Universe | He held his dialogues; and they did teach | To him the magic of their mysteries | To him the book of Night was open'd wide | And voices from the deep abyss reveal'd | A marvel and a secret --- Be it so.
Good night. 
The Price of Dreams:

I want to know his history. He throws a casual epiphany of experience, a small world perhaps fit for him and one other which he visits when time is gullable yet responsible for life's progression, with this still-frame of an absolutely unfiltered animated breath of fresh air.
If I were for one split second liable to be practical with my adrenaline, I would frankly hope to lie down with this man on this same day and both feel and learn something with each subracted item of clothing and, even moreso, each stroke upon the unshaved growth upon his pallete.

Thanks, Thomas.