If only there was a vine
with leaves as footholds
to climb up to the very sun
and dim it's light a little bit,
would things in our universe
be any different?
Sunday, November 12, 2017
Rope
What is this struggle- internal, external, eternal- to escape any embodiment of reality? We lash out and cower down in cartwheels till breaths turns into rasps, till dreams turn into compromise.
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