To the neck to make space, to make space with the neck right on the back and a slump in the jump knocks out minutes of the day. Predilection for muscular collapse finds too much comfort in the ease of stepping a few into the outer and lying out with the inner casting a shadow.
Sounds echo from the hall outside the bars to bounce, bounce and bounce to reverberate with the tiles dry of water behind a wet door. Seconds last only long enough to hold the eyelids down for fractions of a fractured minute. Never and not quite enough to zonk.
Soon Van - Monday, 18 December 2006 - 22:14
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Creativity starves insanity