Sandalwood smoke filling the claustrophobic spaces in my head. A bluejay, beak at right angles to itself from clutching a seed pod, drops it to nibble at succulence among willow tree deadfall. Then retrieves it again covetously. Down the road, a vulture squats nonchanlantly over a greasy, crimson smear. Nonplussed at the possibility of achieving a similar fate. Weeks without sundaes and nights of fitful sleep. There simply aren't enough feathers to fully pad the ostensible geriatricism.
9:29 a.m. - 2019-10-23
Recent entries:
Purple Glass Facets - 2019-11-06
Flat Sine WaVE - 2019-11-06
Some Advice - 2019-10-30
Librum Infinitum - 2019-10-30
Locomotions - 2019-10-23
My profile
Archives
Notes
Diaryland
Random
RSS
others:
Murder
Blubbles
Frostopia
Secret-motel
ATwoWayDream
HumHum