The summer has come, burned through the thin paper of spring. I am tired, and want nothing more than to lay beneath the sea of leaves, and let the trembling waves of aspen song tumble over me. Carry me into an oblivion of thought beyond the creation of it, pulled strings of consciousness. I enjoy meandering through feeling and idea, memory and time, to unfocus myself. Maybe to unhinge a bit. I have to spend so much time keeping everything together, there are times I need to fall apart, even if just in my thoughts. It has been lacking of late, and I languish for it. I held a sparrow yesterday. It's black eyes fixated such an oblivion with nothing but the fluttering heart beneath my hand. Brushed wings, the touch of the hypnotist sending me spiraling into a night of dreams that twine into cries long since set aside. All these pasts hide in stasis, until one thread is pulled and from the deep is a strand of emotion, held as precious and beautifully as a string of pearls.

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