squeezing juice from rocks
it rained again this afternoon
the sky a quickening grey
the soft warm glow
of the lamp
in the darkening room
a thick book on his chest
sleep lurking in the pages
the cat is coughing
plans to go out soon
the lingering sting of ambition
like a love unrequited
it’s been a while since he’s
seen people
cloistered in his own mind
the solitude a breath of fresh air
the boredom a reprieve
from the hustle
squeezing juice from rocks
everything is nonsense.
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