Posts tagged prose
SOLSTICE// July

I.
Time
moves
with a swiftness
that catches your breath mid inhale.
Sweeping the present from under your feet-
you are the remaining plates and silverware
from a yanked-out tablecloth.

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NEW YEAR// Quicksand House

The place I was living,
my metaphorical house
(body, spirit, self, mind, external world)
came down.
Beyond repair.

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