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2009-10-16
drift without breathing, lift without leaving


Where does it come from, the grey morning? Cushion me. Cover me in the cellar. Listen to choral music in the grey morning. I drink isolation fluid in the cellar of grey morning. Cushion me from unreflective windows. Cushion me from empty swimming pools. Why does the convenience store clerk speak backwards? I microwave the bicycle chain. I put a paper fist through the county medical center. Flowers rise outside the coroner's office. Flowers kiss the rain after everyone has gone away. I'm so lost in the flea markets of distant cities. I'm so lost in the affection of flowers kissing the rain. I wait for my sister outside the dental factory. I wait for a sister I lost long before I understood the finer mechanisms of needing. Here comes the valley. And here comes the mountain. I cushion myself in the shadows. I cushion myself in the fog of a life that can't be lived.


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