Thursday, March 1, 2018

Tissue paper in the morning dew

Signs of brain activity in him.  His body looked to be about 30 years old.  The body ages without a guarantee the mind will.  A formal rite of passage no longer available to the modern male.  It was too icky for the gentle soul being carried in his shoulder bag.  Daily dosed by should and shouldn't.  The cell phone light illuminated his aura like a celestial halo.  Never hurt a fly that's the standard measure of goodness for a modern male.  Impossible to get him through the ford with dry feet.  Unpleasantries are to be avoided.  Unblemished he would remain on one side of the river.   Plenty of wondrous distractions to remain content.  His innocence assured the tender beings he encountered they could remain carefree.  Like a cold breeze can bring about the crystal tone sound from the wind chime.  He was precise and refined.  The perfect specimen to display on a poster or under a bell jar.  Wilted by the slightest of change.


It's not what you think it's what you believe.  Patricia '96

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