My frontal lobe crafts a path to find an apposite residence
for the fields of lavender provoked my limbic system kindling fine motor skills to
zoom into high gear swerving over Mount Everest’s most southern hemisphere,
Plummeting at warp speeds to crash perhaps into the rapid waterfalls,
But there is a tributary in Egypt’s river that’s swelling to the overflow,
Triggering the cortex to hover in excitement, like frantic butterflies fluttering in
unison,
Distressing the frontal lobe, how it throbs faster than the heart’s rhythm,
An impulse one too much! Darkness creeps quickly, dwarfing the thinking quotient
shutting down the speed of light,
Reverse!
River, mountain, lavender, butterflies, field,
The stroke of beauty vanishes, taken away, compromised, gone!
But the shell still exists, the light is on, that means someone is home! Knock Knock!
Any one…
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