little thoughts on a seemingly quiet afternoon


there is the tastable boredom; the phenomenon of not feeling yet knowing numbness
as though you are in the catacombs of yourself; fire-winged, fire-lunged and firefly
all inside the mortar and pestle heart with its myogenic machinery angled and feeling
the angels amongst the debris of the daemons.  There is the dog barking: there lives
incidences in motion with all sprites and spirits who are the different races of Jinns
and Rahmat Ferashtas going on and they can see them and we, too honed for sight
too honed for sound as in the braille and bones of it; its cuticle mass that we hear little.
That is the why the mantis shrimp with all its colours ignite aggression for too much colour
stains the epiphany as in too much music. What chromes and filters we use to make
music I am lost in the daydreams of summer and monsoon hybrids; mango smitten
and daylight fevers eschewing the need to stay standing but only walk on lines needed.

sometimes I wonder if my body is depressed as in overworked from depression?

I never know much. I can probably detail it when I am out of it.▬

Speak yer mind

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