(I took a three month week vow of silence. I had some general rules and reasons posted here)

You come to on a cliff's edge that you recognise only from dreams. Or was it that you remember the edge from life? You're not certain that you've ever been on the edge before. You're not certain that you've ever been far from it, either.

On the other hand, it may not be an edge-type edge. The ground is spongiform. It is of an interesting texture. The cliff is not a cliff. It is a crust.

You have woken beside yourself. Your other self has woken beside yourself. You have woken beside yourself many times over.

You have woken up beside yourself many times over on a large piece of bread. You are spread out on a piece of bread.

You are not the bedspread. You are the bread spread.

Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily. Life is butter dream.

View A List Of All Posts In "The Mute Papers"

  Previous Post: Word Clouds    Next Post: The Company Of Myself  

PrintDownload   Category: The Mute Papers Tags: Mute, Writing Join: TwitterFacebookSubscribe