Tuesday 11/01/2016 11:50:00 PM

voices usually stab and miss. once in a while they draw blood.

mired in the lingering sober of singular choices.

i'm always on the edge. covetting and shunning the center.

the swift of the Earth as it circles the sun. determined. ambivalent. it's too little. it's too much.

i envy the bridges as i pass below them. so determined in the stern cartography of truth.

the road rarely listens as our footsteps make their music. only the lost words dare to dance.

how far have we gone? the miles seldom answer.

where we're going. that's anyone's guess.

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