'Strange'

Air most-temperate was radiant; set the world a-shimmer. Deficit of sleep and great exertion had me buckling, waking world afore me became shallow; most surreal.

Anaesthetised to most of anything, staring through the veil. Musing that this severance-common, irksome though it was, being for the good of others; mattered-not to me.

Amidst conditions of this sort, I should be setting flutter, to the hearts and minds of goddesses and few select others; ’stead I find myself, though numbed, skir-ting an odd dull ache.

Nothing seems to be enough; especially condemned to wait.

'Strange'

Laszlo Totka

Sydney, Australia

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  • Donna19
  • Laszlo Totka
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