The Forgotten Line
I can’t remember the line I thought of last night.
Only its essence remains,
Clarity, something profound, escaped.
My left knee hurts.
Later it will be my outer hip,
Striking pain down my entire leg.
Today my thighs feel strong and full.
Bottom firmly rooted in this chair, and
A cat upon my lap purrs, purrs.
Arms hanging in the air from stiff shoulders.
Coffee burning my hands, so
I lift my arms up. I create length.
Eyes open, I take in the dim light.
I survey all my persistent discomforts,
Indissoluble, found objects, captured.
"Well, the weather today is still dystopian hell scape,” he says.
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