I will use all my hands to tidy everything up. Get caught up in something obsessive and forget the way i always run a thing through my fingers before putting it away. Dust from the messes caked up on my pinky.
What i pat down over here will just push the mess into over there, like quiet displaced sand, naturally, and with gravity.
Before I can do anything about it, things keep growing in mounds. You know, that familiar shape. Everything barely holding itself up. The dust, the scraps and leftovers, the plans all falling to the side, falling along a tilted highway pointed right into the ground. snow piles into mounds and mountains too and melts all on its own all at once.
THE TILT
CATTAILS!
TURNSTILES!
PRIDE!
CLOSING THE CURTAINS!
TURNING THE KEY TO UNLOCK THE DOOR!
BUT YOU HAVE TO PUT YOUR WHOLE BODY INTO IT!
AND SO YOUR TORSO IS TWISTING TO THE TUNE
OF IT GETTING COLDER OUTSIDE!
RIVERS ARE SOMETIMES TEMPORARY LAKES!
SLEEP! TOMORROW!
HOLD IT DOWN!
GO EAST!
250219
🏡