A rock can't really suffer.
        This may be a nightmare, but at least it's not such a bad nightmare.
        It may be a long fall, a long suffering, but a rock's fall's infinity is shorter than others.

        I was floating till this world rose beneath me.
        This unwanted afterlife.
        There is a toothless voodoo doll in this diluted hell.
        The grains of sand swing closed, perhaps my eyes erode.
        As if a million years ago I precipitated out of the super-saturated waters beyond this rocky shore.
        My enormous face stretches across the horizon, hardened into a landscape, a rocky hillside, a waterfall behind the ears where the thoughts had been.
        Traced out in pebbles on the beach [which was once my cheek] someone has written, "save me"; a wave of my risen tide splashes the words away.
 
 













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