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Tuesday, July 24, 2007
...untitled.
...and over an hour, it slows down, creeping up on imperceptible. silent, quiet, dark and cool. hovering over everything, it sedates, transforms vision, leaves a dying ember in the northwest that fires what's left with all it's energy.
...and over an hour, it's gone. its gray remains lying like splintered time all over the colorless lawn. fanciful fantasies falling from below, creeping up from underneath; the cool earth, released. the smell thickens, almost audible now, it drifts in and out of windows opened, distant talking reminisces and passes on news.
...and over an hour, silence creeps in, breathing deepens, and minds quiet.