The cracks. Beneath these swollen toes linked body to a new kind of breathing that pulsed with the earth’s surface and pulled the human closer to itself.
The sun, breaking the surface of skin, and permeating a reaction to faith and force. And to the unknown, we are glued.
The corners, in lips. The creases in the eyes. Squint and burning the cornea as the sweat beads and falls and beads and falls. Breathing, too, along with the road. In and out, as if after some psychedelic dream, where We have seen the earth move. Inhaling dreams, often exhaling in exhaustion. A vacuum of sound and the dream vanishes to smoke & heat & memory.
The feeling of motion. And being in rhythm. Rubbing against time. A rolling hill and a thoughtless heart. All traveling into an abyss. Only one, this hill, with intentions. The other, aimless, and weak. But not This again. Not This.
Do not let the cracks bleed, but only to let the Light in. Tomorrow is another day. And the peached, weathered sky is bigger than it seems.