still, unclean
Stagnant air for the third day in a row.
Thick, humid air. Too warm, too still.
Adrift on a slowly melting ice floe,
abandoned by the wind,
we’re stuck in our own poisons,
no longer able to pretend that we’re clean.
Stagnant air for the third day in a row.
Thick, humid air. Too warm, too still.
Adrift on a slowly melting ice floe,
abandoned by the wind,
we’re stuck in our own poisons,
no longer able to pretend that we’re clean.
February 6th, 2008 at 3:53 pm
Light a candle.
Contemplate nothing in the flickering flame.
Come away cleansed.