Saturdays bore the mark of cosmic alignment, Sundays blessedly hungover. Restless Mondays…
I’ve tried kicking them outbut they keep coming, leapingover the bedpost —…
The air is thickening, a denseness surroundseach breadth is more precious…
All the years that we’ve spent
Questions.
I am half human, half mebut still, I am inclined to thinkthere’s a possibility, if I am not wrongI…