.
The obesity of the age bulges spilling chubby ankles over damp sandals. Thick wiener toes exposed to slow sun roast.
The bag of hoary youth strums eternal cords for download and forgetting. Witness the harvest. Offer soft necks.
The sun is too bright. I change sides of the ship. It backs out of the dock spins about. The sun is too bright. Safety announcement sinister. A megaphonic canned greeting too loud. Food bad. I change sides.
Adrift. The behemoth rocks. Cradle sea. Grey porpoise. Purposeless. Beneath a sky white washed, but for a pin hole escape hatch. Sun laser beam. Starboard, forward, aft, I list. Not ready to be embraced by the all encompassing white light. I shift port side.
Now what?
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