17 layers of sin
there the brother is ... mashing up the path outside my window.
He's got a rain jacket and a downy vest on the top-end of mudbog boots and smudgy red santajohns. He's pedaling a bike 2 speeds slower than reverse, up a wee hill, with no destination in site.
He's moving.
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The sun is out, but it's a softer, wetter brightness than i'm used to. Feeling the ocean so close is ... spinning loose my navigation ports. I'm not dried out, not burned down, not hoarding moisture like the half-starved hyena of my past.
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there the brother is ... topping out on the path,
weebling, wobbling, dizzy-crazed with a face furred and scarred and unmoved by the budding blossom air.
2 comments:
half starved hyena?
don't stop him, he's on a verbal roll. he does look like he needs to eat tho...
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