Running through space, and with each breath the same space running through me, then becoming space again. The body passing through space, feeling space yield without breaking or being divided, fluid like water. Space clinging to the skin and entering through the pores. Space in the blood. Space in the cells. Space the distance between stars. Uphill and down, to stop at the door. Quietly, now, not to disturb. Space in the rooms. Space to the walls. Space on the floor. Space in the sink. In the coffee pot. Around the plants on the window sill. Space intimate, the lover of words.
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Categories: Sweet Sleep and Bare Feet