| There are these spots |
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| Catch as Catch Can | |||
| Written by Francis Scudellari | |||
| Thursday, 18 February 2010 11:24 | |||
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There are these spots on my ceiling. Plainly speaking, they are off-white patches where the heads of nails were mudded over, but not well sanded. I opt to see them as push-pins squashed when spat on monochrome maps to point me dippered ways outre-ward. Their gap-tooth patterns micro-mimicking constellations hap my eyes to hazard hopping through new belt hoops. Then passed by barely habited worlds, I wheel round orbits molecularly chained to collide, next time. My neighbor's heavy steps fade out.
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