Daily

I sometimes look through the haze of a whiskey maze and push my pen against a thought. I watch that thought tumble against another until the rattle inspires a train of thoughts that becomes a sentence. I race to type with sprinting fingers across a keyboard, across my home.

The realm between which the tips of my fingers find freedom at last.

I write the next thought just because.

Because the day is not done.

-OM

44.1

@smokendust

13 thoughts on “Daily

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