Textling #28

Some days are unspeakable. Fatigue and pain dislodge me. Even my voice becomes unhinged, that last door. The earth turns, rivers flood, neighbours shout their children down, a girl glides by, humming a vague tune, and I lie, useless and unconcerned, like a hiss fallen from a hater’s mouth. Later, as I recall, I find words wanting, their essence (and a foot of mine) tethered in the hinterland.

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2 thoughts on “Textling #28

  1. Dear M, Keep waiting for your next post. As I re-read this one I seek out new words, their etymology. Did you know the word hinge comes from the axis of the earth? Isn’t that just perfect ?

    Liked by 1 person

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