Thursday, August 30, 2012

A Rising of No Consequence

Hazy light and hot air circulating

on a humid morning. The fan has

been on all night, whirring back

and forth. You slept with no sheets,

the fan blowing air onto your legs

from time to time. Night crawled

into your thoughts through sounds

familiar to daytimes sibling. You

sit up, drink water from the cup.

Day can only grow hotter, will

grow hotter. Feet touch tile, you

yawn instinctively. Everything

and nothing all share the same

starting point.  

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