That one dawn

That night spelled out so many things, like a petate strewn on the floor.

My brain lay idle awaiting answers.

I couldn’t figure A from Z to be frank, and I was. Frank’s the name. I was born in Aztlan.

And the rays of the dawn broke not only my concentration, it shattered my soul.

What was I doing there?

I listened to the morning’s dew make drops one by one and the spiders and other critters scurried for them, I thirsted for more.

I quenched too.

I sensed the beginning coming, the end far from now.

Unwillingly I stared out to the open space, my self in a cosmos star spangled and all.

I dragged the moment even more like a pillow.

My eyes wondered about.

We met, eye to eye before the bye bye.

The music of yore embraced me, I felt nearly strung out.

Until this morning everything else made sense.

When the chateu clerk came by I was dreaming; skiing on some mystic alp on the Inca empire land.

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