Water flowing backwards up a sun-etched trail. Water nymphs shimmering lazily mere yards from an infinity of mosquito nests. Seventeen sunburns on age-dappled skin. The forestalled destruction of pedal bone and cartilage. Only flesh ripped from right angles. Meditating beneath a waterfall of perfect height. The one hundred thousand river-fingers of God tattooing my shoulders into place. That was it-- the apex.
3:24 p.m. - 2022-06-30
Recent entries:
Houses in a Yard - 2022-07-15
Highwater Marque - 2022-07-15
Temporal Drain - 2022-07-07
Not Quite Figs - 2022-07-01
Falling Afterpetals - 2022-06-30
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