All suffering is distance
Most of it
And telepathy is the only distinct thing left
By thing I mean, texture
By left, I mean, what remains of earth
By texture I mean... sho' nuff
The path hurt like wool tugging away at a lamb, but we made it
And did you see it too, each way the word nigga screwed itself onto the word night to stay dark and ubiquitous
Thank you. I feared I was the only one who saw it two. That fear turned into numbers, numbness, a suburban afterglimpse of passing days and it was too safe for suffering and too dangerous for distance. Thank you. I'm not the only one. All distance isn't suffering. This one shuffles across ourselves like, hush, now, don't explain. I'm glad that you're back--BlackIvory--, don't explain
