She Said (redux)

She said to herself: Thanks for renting a space in this life. Despite the scrofulous and desiccate in life you stayed around to witness the swirling swallows above, and their reflected pantomime in the water below—a whirlwind of life all about you. Now get some sleep and start all over again tomorrow. Your boulder always awaits you.

What I’m Reading:

I stretch out on the ground.
Naked. One-armed. Crowless.

— Anne de Marcken / It Lasts Forever and Then It’s Over