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standing in the garden,
surrounded by a putrid smell
wafting off anything near enough to be called close.
laying in the weeds,
amongst the glorious destruction
caused through the unending process of nothing becoming something.
swimming in the ditch,
touching the socks
of a man who's energy and drunken stupor rattles the brain stem.
sinking down the drain,
saturated by the liquid
which gives all while siphoning a small percentage off the top.
embracing the insubstantial,
knowing where to go,
but lingering for just a few more minutes of... sleep.
-david rbV '3
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