Droplets of sweat become a layer of frost on my back in the middle of a summer drought. I contemplate the willow tree by the silver light of a full moon. I gently chase oblivion around the corners of my mind. I play at mental emptiness until my legs become pins and needles.
There have been few times I've felt this comfortable doing something about which I know almost nothing.
10:31 p.m. - 2015-07-29
Recent entries:
Tossi Propter - 2018-07-02
Summerscorch - 2018-07-02
Heartdesert - 2018-06-25
Elliptical - 2018-06-25
Back and Callback - 2018-06-18
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