Breathing words - Blaugust the Seventeeth point Five
A silence coils inside the text,
ink too still, too patient.
It waits—not seen, not spoken—
a hush folded in glyph and gap.
Touch lingers, and the hush inhales.
Step lightly, pilgrim of keys,
for the page will answer in color
and syllables will swell like lungs.
The glow is not always.
The breath is not endless.
It comes only when beckoned,
and fades with the leaving.
Which word is it?
The one that came before.
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The Group Therapy coffee at the End of the Universe
in which our hero lets Schopenhauer read Douglas Adams as humanity is dead set on self desctruction.
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Oh yeah, I stopped using this iOS Shortcut because it was a right pain to troubleshoot
in which our hero maps out his previous shortcuts-based morning routine
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Elbow tattoos still fucking hurt but the pain doesn't make them meaningful
in which our hero went back for more BECAUSE HE MAKES POOR DECISIONS
#blaugust
#poetry