My Diary: Feeling Helpless Like King Canute’s Chair

I had to climb out of the picture earlier than planned‭; ‬leaving June still inside and resting on a log‭ (‬until it dramatically changed into Saint Anthony and the surrounding vegetation‭ ‬into‭ ‬young women with reptile scales‭)‬.‭ ‬Looking at a circle above his head I wondered if everything eventually returns to where it started out.‭ ‬I later mentioned this to June when we stood like unhammered in nails as the carpenter’s plane removed the last slither of wood from the plank‭ ‬-‭ ‬I am not sure if even he knew what he was making.‭ ‬June and I stayed in the same shell all day even though outside the others had exchanged seas.‭ ‬I sat in an art chair painting tables and she laid on a rock listening to the song of the sirens as an empty ship sailed by with absolutely no one tied to the mast.


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