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I am tired, but fully clothed. My pants are too tight, my shirt too big. I am squeezed into a body of flesh and bone marrow. I can't feel my heart beat against my shirt -- am I alive? Or am I walking through this world seen, but unnoticed? My heels are bruised telling me I'm grounded, but my soul is lost amongst the folds in my shirt. So I stoop and I sit where I was once standing to try and call my spirit back. Perhaps I should lie on my back. Now wind snuggles under my shirt billowing it like a balloon. I wonder when the string that ties me down will be let go. Tired, but fully clothed I close my eyes and enter a dream depending on fabric to keep me safe and warm. I feel myself falling, so I start. Awake I find myself naked amongst many. |
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