Dance in the Full Moon

O, the Frailty of Memory

Monday, April 2, 2018

4.2a

I cracked a rough, brown egg into a glass bowl this morning. I whisked it hard with plastic forks.
I opened doors up to the sun this morning. I guess I missed going to work.
The apathetic mood I'm forming is a mockery, a sport.
The world is larger than before this morning. If I will finish eating, I should start.

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