Sunday, November 14, 2010

a moving thought

This flickering feeling of vitality was an accident, a trope, a metaphor, a failure. The stirring of hope under the blazing sun moved my thoughts to and fro—-a hammock. But, it was the sight of a funeral procession like a bread crumb on top an ant that reminded me that I, too, will have graffiti drawn on my grave.

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