Saturday, March 17, 2018

Daily Prose Poem


An antidote for freedom. It's all the things you carry inside invisible knappy sacks, bursting at the inseams and ready to tumble it's words into whatever cup you've currently pressed against your lips. The inertia of a sigh caught in between a memory. The streetlight outside your window that blinks profusely when you awake from slumber, still dreaming of stars and remember, vaguely, how life has never thrown you one.

**word provided by  (the website where you write about one word, everyday)

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