Until I could say no more my words were savage grunts pointing fingers flailing arms signaling fears of some unknown offerings ascending wildly as sparks in the night whose lifetime spanned an eye blink ash falling to earth dissolved in a rain drop running down tree leaves and windows and grass blades then worm holes to who knows universes unseen undreamed unspoken



About jingeorgia

Searching high and low no matter where i go it always seems the same: shades of grey. Or, was that gray?
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3 Responses to

  1. This was a very bright spot for me this morning. If you ever felt like it, I wish you woud “treat” me (us) to more. Wonderfully done and evocative. This is Carole of Ramblingon.

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