Through a muddy split window, the wild winds whip.
The dark of day descends,
as checkered quilts wave goodbye, off to new realms.
And I, fresh from a steamy shower,
empty the vacuumed dirt of a hundred days,
absorbing a dark disease.
Through a muddy split window, the wild winds whip.
The dark of day descends,
as checkered quilts wave goodbye, off to new realms.
And I, fresh from a steamy shower,
empty the vacuumed dirt of a hundred days,
absorbing a dark disease.
Aremyfeetofftheground 
Pondering dark diseases, of which there are too many….your posts make me think, thank you! This one is very deep.
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