The skies are a-burning, the heat is a-rising and we a-surfing along the cusp of the perfect in-between; hot sticky days and cold damp nights, finding their happy medium at the dusky, flamed edge of each.
I could live quite comfortably on the road. A permanent smile etched into weathered skin and quick feet that never touched upon any land twice. Unattached to this world, except for the force of gravity forever nudging me around its axis, from one lost place to another.
Sweet nothing-ness,
MK
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