the days drip by
at some distance
distances
distancing
doling out their separate continuities
pooling into patterns, welling up
strange familiar currents
ripples
depths and calms
dreamlike surreal
a drip at a time
wearing new grooves into resistant stone
eroding the ground under my feet
layering ugly limescale like a scar
what will i do?
feeble fickle attention snags briefly on some drifting interest
swirls and eddies
caught between extremes of drought and drowning
out of my depth
what do these drips and drabs of time have to do with me?
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thick love like wading through honey without the sweet goldenness through mud but without the soothing coolness tapioca? not slimy - diff...
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paper cotton leather linen lace teeth (skin) and fingernails scraping teetering on the sharpest edge of hope and disappointment ground(?) w...
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1927-2002 How terribly strange to be orphaned. Too young a word for someone my age. Sudden yet hardly unforeseen in the gym Wednesday, gone ...
1 comment:
"what will I do?"
Do nothing. Not now. Not yet.
Take time just to be. xxxx
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