Common Grounds


The morning has yet to distinguish us, one from the other.

Rock is as water, flesh is as dirt and the past seems to be

nothing at all. So here I am, alone but sitting right next

to you. I bend to gather up stones so as to take you

down. But the ones in my hand have turned into

sand, and the sand has just blown away.

I will remain here now.




Copyright 2019

Image Credit: Pixabay

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