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“We’re fools whether we dance or not, so we might as well dance.”[my art blog dedicated to everyday muses]
Its just hard sand and saltwater and grit and heat all this choking heat blinding light burning white white white they say don’t rub your eyes don’t rub so hard but I see nothing I see white I see dark and flashing spots I see red and white and black and empty space infinite and flat I see a blur and two feet toes curled in I see fingers nails digging into palms I see saltwater grit and scabs I pick and pick and there’s a red bead blooming small then bigger and bigger till it rolls off my skin I feel hot and cold and shivering impossible and yet like a fever it shivers it shakes.