bearing down on the back, shoulders, breasts, and mind that is heavy and hot.
While there is a constant seeking search for the new, sleepy waking worry
takes over the quest, which never gets anyone anywhere.
Same same same same same same same same same...
yet senses indicate a looming crossroads, stumbling on small rocks, feet heavy, clumsy.
The crossroads have choices, the crossroads have signs that deceive in their truth.
Shit...the map ends, the lines fading into distance, right at that point.
