the low spot

familiar hammock,

hung loping

silken tar pit

draping and folding;

a salve of shirked living

soothing until it's not

until it's too heavy

until it's a mountain too smooth and soft to climb

until my limbs rend

salted and wet

slow-cooked into apathy.

exhaustion press'd

(rye and ginger, lemon, soda

left half emptied

beaded condensations le...

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