Question
· One min read
The ceaseless body carries on
when perhaps you should stop
and plot a route. A path.
A freeing twist.
What was it for? For us, for him.
No, what was it for? For me.
No, what was it for! It was...
a reflex. It was set in motion.
What feels like action
is always inertia.
Horrendous, groaning, societal
mutating stillness.