Sitting under the crescents of twilight and then dusk when the sky becomes the floor and the ground becomes the ceiling {small smoked ghosts rising thick and full above us} and we become all that is in between {slurred earths shattering...} and we feel as tho' we are falling into this sky and then hold onto the ground even more tightly...

Man, it rocks into you like a saltwater eclipse. Slowly overcoming the original whole until ... blackness.

A narcoleptic lifestyle, sleeping through sudden changes, waking up in the third person, waking up in writer's block. Waking up in people's block. I can't remember people anymore.

Have we done enough to be saved?