Maroon paper. White font. Rectangle, folded. Stapled, tiny. to string: The other person is you.
Pin it. Lapel. Quiet zone. Consider. Outsider, not so. Stop the clock- Not the train. Misty fingers pulled me back. Denying.
The divulgence. Eclectic 24 easing. Pleasing. In my ears, idled.
Pile of tires bridge side. Repugnant. A lump on a log-I used to be accused of. At times, a necessity-to be still. Now, never. Always a race-a face-they do not show theirs. Like that barbed wire along the fence.Barrier. Belief. Preservation for their one and perhaps only. Their guard just different than mine. Invisible. I also wear.I also climb.
Soaked into their clothes.A smell of food-makes a growl inside.
Right, breakfast time. The last of the bread and cheese. Rapid stuff, hardly a chew and a juggle into the wind.Rain. A first time conversation, gladdens. Into the blur . Passing so quickly out of focus. We share the morning failure of an earlier arrival.
The other person is me, after all.
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