Terry A Posted January 28 Share Posted January 28 Words spreading over air taken in by breath exhaling pink mists soft sighs and tingling thighs exhumed by yesterday’s mule reading, amidst the dark jabs of knowing better. What was expected? When what could be expected? On a huge ocean receptive to any turn of oar where left behind musings were strong enough to stay but too weak to chart the coming changes not planned well, but there. His sun-shaded eyes drifting over fathomless depths Raising hands to air he laboured not the past so much as challenged future To Make it Matter. All those words dancing as waves not particles one could count on Challenging a settlement of affairs raising hell in some other dimension not yet wholly here or there. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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