Monday, November 3, 2008

End Wave. pg. 11. Dust.

Lucid particles of micrometers rose and settled across the island of Manhattan. They settled with the rise of the sun. They gusted as the moon glazed. Globally radiating in suburbia, in the cubicle farms, glowing in human cells, falling and floating follicles, weaves of cottons, silks, polyesters, wools, multi-flavored minerals, and countless breaths of terrain. Suffocating the air. And they breathed deeply. Into bends they inhaled.

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