My Diary

I woke hearing the rain kneading the bread dough pavement; billowing curtains looked like scolding arms. I raised a flag on the unconscious verandah like space that surrounds each individual house in what I sarcastically call the brain city while in the simultaneity of a tired mind two figures raised the sail on their small boat and slowly disappeared into the spider like writing of an internal sky. I worked all day in the network of caves we rent from the bird song dwarf, moving furniture in a similar way to a tin can moving sardines. After a hurried dinner I split into two with one half watching people from his past peeling themselves off the too dull walls and the other watching a woman pull her ostrich head from the too bright sand.

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