backwards

stones. 

stones in my gut stones in my mind stones in my fingertips, sliding over the keys

it's temporary, yes, it's adjusting to the meds, yes but doesn't mean it's not real, reality, it's too heavy today tomorrow too, saturday fine! then we taper up next tuesday and such stones, 

granite and such, time, such time they will need to erode but--

disappearance is imminent. wait till saturday again. wait.  wait.   wait.  don't fall in the mean time. you're quite heavy like that.

did i mention the haze around my face? 

yes, it's the color of an overcast sky seen through winter-salt stained windows. it attacks like gnats, supposedly harmless, but then, in your mouth ears eyes, stumbling about, do be careful, won't you?

harmless then?

in one desert there are stones that move on their own. 

they never let anyone watch. they own their own movement. 

can we still call them stones?

not the ones they've put in me, no. grey. lifeless. they do not even have thought to move. i started out swatting the gnats but i've grown too heavy, the stones spread like infection in my blood. 

fingertips are the next to go. 

see you saturday when it's all well.