justwrite 27 february

i am tired and i will sleep and i will keep my eyes on the shelf and myself out of troubled dreams it seems that my head is already gone and i am still to follow the hollow walls calling out for me to knock and to tick the tock from the broken clock in the hallway outside my door the corridor of glorious reluctance the hilarious comeuppance comegotten taken like a name for a list you'd like to be missed from the jist of the message here is that clearly i have a face to save a place to rave over hamstrings and other such ligaments bent into and out of proportion the distortion hard to keep up with though such is the tendency to see tendons bending from broken imagery like headache delivery almost almost there