Thursday, October 29, 2009

The Geostroph/The Interstites

The Geostroph

The wind was on the face of the rock, a pink stream invisible. I have that distance to cross it said, the face of a dog, the river in the sand.

The Interstites

The kidney in its dungeon longed to laugh. It had the vision of grass on the hill and a traveling boy.

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