Drag a body out of heavy sleep, I was trying to solve a riddle I didn't even remember I carried in my blood stream. Surely I would have reached it if not for the alarm.
We are perpetually inches away from the answer.
September is gentle, somehow, easing autumn into your field of vision, trying not to startle you as it comes. You scare easily these days, every dendrite poised like a violin string, vibrating. But I am determined to find the lost pieces, build this ship back together, be someone who makes it out of the flood not with my shoes dry, but with my lungs still breathing.
I feel the air begin to set my strings
on fire.
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