Sunday, January 15, 2012

A Drowsy Distilling

Tired and slow but still moving, trying to do what the body says it cannot. So drained, a bed appears everywhere; a pile of sand, a cool spot of grass and a shady mossy rock. Still on go the legs, locomotives that scream for stillness. It is here in the wreckage of needed rest that the driving entity is sanitized into one understandable thing.

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