Vacillation: Prose Poem
Wednesday Prose Poem: taking on a movement
Published in
3 min readFeb 11
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Hard to orient the senses when you’re always upside down, scrambling through the winter and sunset holding onto spare keys that don’t fit anything you own —
spinning and sinking and spilling water outside the tub — water that doesn’t feed anything — just got to dry or mould, or whatever —
