Image from google-AP Photo/JK

The crack is spreading. A biting touch; jagged, rough, too much - but never enough, the hug of good love, and the hate of it’s trap. An obvious lesson, ignored until blood, makes real the bluff. The force of a world trying to slow progress. Distorting my wholeness of determined blackness, as I drive forward, spreading warm coolness.

I write to breath. I write to give. I write for happiness.

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