Autumn Afternoon Heat

This warm sensation of the quick burning-out star 
on wind-blown skin is such a fast-acting superficial 
not quite a dream but in the long-winded scope of 
forever  it is a momentary bliss.

Do you ever feel in this hour 
the pull of the planet like a wrapped-tight rope dragging you toward 
maybe not a specific destination 
but an ideal state 
that may or may not be degradation into base parts. 

Seems in between sobering blinks 
that these feet are so heavily fastened like wrought-iron anchors 
straight through the bloody bone 
there is only this soft land curvature 
these walls 
those not dissimilar urges that come in lapping tides with the sunfall.  

But remember too that in the great spinning of everything 
you are a thing only the most incremental amount of something 
above nothing 
and yet to the most incremental somethings 
swimming across the great mighty oceans of mucus 
within yourself 
you are the everything. 

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