sleep is a brick floor
a vast and simple one
we breach out of it
and fall back in like
whales in the ocean I’ll 

be doing the dishes and
all of a sudden I’ll
see my arm making nice
circle motions attached to my
wrist down inside a big

soapy pot where my hand
holds a scrubber thing and
digs it against the pot
moving by means of somehow
unknown and violent anticircular flexations 

(Source: merephenomena)

2:42 pm  •  25 December 2011  •  4 notes