what was that sentence you gave me? I woke and could recall; but walk some steps down and I forget. It had weight like those heavy dreams often do.
really though, it was just a sentence my mind spit out, mere seconds before my eyes would open, to see the world as it is; not as I dreamed it would be.
i've played my cards with the hand i was dealt and it always comes up short in the end. but i don't care too much about winning or loosing i've grown to love watching how others play and reminding them while i deal their fresh hand that this is a very stupid ******* game we're playing.
keep your poker face. i don't need to know your tell to know the lie you live.
it was just past midday, between the hour of 12 and 1, when i laid outside in my aged underwear and enjoyed one of those wakeful stretches which feels more like a spasm, atop the fallen wet leaves and still green grass when a sun-shower shone and washed away all my lingering summer thoughts.
that's when the mailman approached my mailbox with that wave like hum of low gear driving, delivering pulpy reminders of todays date in the real world and the actual passage of time.
being and not being, siting and laying there in front of me the reflection which jumps into my eyes with a matted finish portraying its age of being and not being.