Most of the walking is in one place and the tired seeps in through my feet the hanging-upside-down feeling reels me back in and flattened out I pancake up at the ceiling and wonder where the day went how I spent x number of hours in why why what and other questions I cannot wait to drink coffee after I have showered after I have run after I have woken up early and the saddest part is how little sleep there is between now and then but the longer we sleep the less we eat and the less we run as well the fell swoop and other techniques knocking me over and about at the door and through the truth remains to be seen in it’s polite to offer tea or coffee if the coffers aren’t quite bare and it’s fair to say I’m at a loss I’m crossing fingers and lingering over wonders the part where I make a list the jist being just barely grasped I collapse my metal leaves inward steaming and streaming gentle encouragement elsewhere the others there and about have no doubt they’re getting this yes this love this plus a push of positive even as I drift backward into the otherwise thinking of titles like ozine like clever things on the front even when the middle is empty my fingernails get longer and longer and every night I have a dream that maybe should be written down the steps are there to be taken but my feet are done for the day
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