day 8: bell hent
you tickle me
for so long
i worry that my soul has left my body through my ribs
and i kind of hover near the ceiling looking down
at you, tickling.
me: laughing. not happy.
i hurdle over the barrier of meaning
and to see what’s on the other side.
i reckon it’s nicer over there, anyway.
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new creative challenge to write a thing a day. just a ten minute thing.