and my head is swimming brimming with all the mumbling mumbled things i forget to say. there are hopping popping toads at my eyelids, vying for attention. yr leafy wrist is a summons, my bruising feet a warning. i'm daydreaming about bicycles and rivers and longlost curlyheaded comrades who lure me to long nights of adventure.
(it makes me wonder if i should flee before the hot blue skies return.)
my throat is a waterfall and this world is a riverbed. debris is rising beneath my ribcage.
and you know, it's been almost a year since i've seen the ocean.
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