Every so often, I am propelled by the churning in my stomach.
| September 24, 2008 | Posted by caroline under dreaming, freeform, Uncategorized |
Every so often, I am propelled by the churning in my stomach. It is a fusion of bile and butterflies that makes me rush from the comfort of my back against my bed and write. It is the emerald green flush that follows the downpour and violence of pounding concrete on my ears, the hopscotch roofs with one leg pointing upwards, tiled along the streets, upon which i walk hand in hand with my muse. It is the safety I look forward to and to which i hold tight. the sound is always so close that i can hear it lurking behind the doors we pass. we walk faster, taking turns on each others shoulders as we make haste. i am getting tired of running, and the impalpable is growing tired of trying to keep up with me. i am sorry for taking you everywhere i go.
