In part mental detail I was merely walking inside my woods, yet further, deeper into the warming blood of truth, I was staring hard and regressing into a hidden web of freedom. A freedom joined at my legs and fashioned to the pall-bearing branches of end. The subtle, yet deadly intricacies
marked a clear moment and strength in my life. The moment began weaving a rise of conscience like
an old noisy loom. In that wooden Ganja I tasted my memory complete but in the air
that stared back in wilderness, I knew we stood as one. Autumn was close and I couldn’t tell
whether I was in love with that idea or not.
You see, normally I know the seed of that
quandary instantaneously…I know like fear knows its slip of edge once dawn
pulls back all the youth of darkness but alone inside this web and in the blurry-eyed
musk of August I was embraced by my final cliff.