Monday, 2 March 2015

Snail (March)



Rain is sometime you correspond with, bearing your curled overload. Tender and too private being, who makes silver trails like signatures across white squares of footpath, where are you going? Regardless of mazy electronics force-feeding society’s gluttony, you scarcely push the envelope, until required. You march on your stomach, take time with ideas, press home advantages. You might be about to sign off but something else gets your attention. You are going in search of a great perhaps. If not lost in a storm or crushed by a boot you’ll reach where you belong, alive without dependence on a reboot.  

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