Squirrel Noise Avoidance

UnpluggedWriting

How to escape – through a door, past shelves, leave the light off and feel my way – until laughs and voices become murmurs and static with muffled volume rises and falls and darkness becomes the womb.  Will I find you there?  Will you share secrets again and fill my breath with excitement and what is close to truth without church and rules, judgements and eyes – looking, staring, noses being picked?  Please?

Here I am.  Now I’ve scraped my finger on the old metal shelving like grocery store isles.  A little worse than a paper cut.  Not sticking that in my mouth.  Could be germs from God knows who and when.  Don’t know if my immune system would hold up to such a challenge.  Just wipe the blood on my jeans and press a pool into my pocket edge, side seam – where there’s more material.  Yes – now it’s stopped – with everything else – so focused on me now – no one around.

Can’t say there’s shadows here – too dark and not cold, but not hot either – even with the coffee I just finished ten minutes ago – no hot flashes for me.  Where’s my truth?

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