(no subject)
inhale.
watch the smoke trails twirling, suspended in midair.
dancing.
exhale. the chaos, a jumbled grey mass, escaping from life, free to wander.
It’s so repetitive. It doesn’t seem to matter, even if It is the only thing that keeps going.
inhale. there’s the dancing again.
if only It were a dance.
exhale. like masses of people on a street, bumping into each other, separating friends, bringing together strangers.
just like It. guess i’ll give in to the cycles.
Inhale.