i awake to the sound of muffled voices--
to the crisp sound of sand grinding underneath comfortable shoes.
my ear gently picks up the inaudible melody of a song i've heard before...
background noise bouncing, laboring off the black felt of a speaker.
raising the floorboard to inspect, i see figures...
drinking quicksand, laughing at the portrait of a foolish tide.
the anchor kisses,
then scrapes, the sea floor.
i wonder if the evacuation procedures are based on tenure...
where does this leave me?
NB @ 11:19 AM
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