The air and the sky and the corners of my mouth
are heavy, pulling me inward. Dirt.
Wednesday witches tattered fly South
toward certain disinterest.
If you saw, in a different way, a termite eating sand
-paper sandings from a concrete floor underground,
you might tell your own story,
for as anyone knows, there are more
atoms
in a grain of dust
than in all the love in all the world. Resound!
posted by : @ 1:41 AM
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