In the time of stone and wood, when you and I walked through shady forests surrounded by the scent of roasting ptarmigan and flint-struck fire, we loved the world and all it contained.
In the time of iron and silk, when you and I rode through across the land surrounded by the scent of rotting bison and coal smoke, we possessed the world and all it contained.
In the time of silicon and glass, when you and I flew through the sky surrounded by the scent of soymeal and ozone, we eschewed the world and all it contained.
Now, in...
Majestic words like maelstrom, preponderance, warbling swirl through my creative whirlpool, pulling in pieces of conversation, tail-ends of admonitions, the lilt of swearing. I live by the calendar, fitting my days into the squares, x'ing the boxes at midnight.
Friday is the wave that crashed but hasn't withdrawn to the sea. I'll compose this in the spiked surf.