blather
it's_not_barometric_pressure
paste! Tumult in uncertainty, yet don’t
get set on removing the brakes just now.

The wanderers are clasping
their white details against their chest cavities
and such is the way many envision
a greater trip to be.
Scum of the scrape
away the idea that getting fit
in shape with forward progress
might eliminate the black path.
Just listen deeper, know that
its faintness isn’t fault upon;
the might of myth builders
in service of the incessant urge,
whatever it may be this week.

Tractors use their fingers
to convey their dissociation
from the harmonies of moving
in a delicate way, yet keeling
into the quaff of amber
in front of them.

It can be more anxious
to presume the diamond
was a part of the dream
than to rise from slumber
encrypted again.
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