August 16, 2011

The garden shed

What is underneath this floor?

From bed last night as my eyes closed it came on as if by a switch. 

Breathe. Breathe. You are wrapped in warm limbs - you are safe...still, here...

but it was an assertive ruffle and the smell of the wet gravel was being impressed into my pitted sleep with black ink and a very sharp nib. 

From my bed and through closed eyes I saw air and dim light come up through the stepping stones in the entrance, and the blue of the darkness presented its self like a person - a guide. 

A soft belly pressed against my back in that warm bed...but I could smell the dirt and my cheek felt cold next to the ground...outside. 

I could feel my breathing get faster...

"Who lived here before you?" I asked.

"I don't know" was the tired reply

Why I began to cry I do not know.

But I cried for the thing that was burried and traped. 

And I wondered what it was...

and why it was there

and what was going to happen next

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