Saturday January 7, 2017
Croaking frogs and wet moonlight smear their magic over my sleepy flesh. It seems more important to feel the weight of stars than the might of any muscle. So I stand still, like those mountains over there, until I decide to swing my arms and send my legs for a quick run. I just need to make sure my heart is still here. Sometimes I fear it has gone after the small things. But it beats and I breathe. Then a deep blue stillness crawls into my eyes again and I wonder about nothing. Have I run out of questions?
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