backwards glances recall miscellaneous remains
of old lives and skins littering all (y)our varying landscapes.
fragments of memory stick to skin until they cant be peeled apart.
because it's all one.
and with all things considered im just getting started.
the hunger returns with the wind blowing her unrest.
sending the dust of a million stars flying.
like the deep exhalation of a long held breath.
the grip loosens unable to hold it's fist of sand.
the red things below shine.
and it's a simultaneous flow of movement.
passing through the days the world moves in me.