first of the blueberry sessions. working stiff.

I get stiff in this chair, with my fingers splayed across the keys like they're covered in vaseline. I stretch my neck to catch the freshest glimpse of the screen.
It was re-entry for me, like a meteorite. Like a srone I fell to this chair and I'm stiff from the flight.
A mainsail flaps just beyond the windowpane, clean like the wings of a dove and the smell like the sweat of strange lands, the tamping of dust by the tropical wash on the sands.a promise of masterrless days, stubbing my toe on a cobblestone laid by a slave. A sailor's curse I lay on the stone, though I own one myself and before I was born its identical twin sat listless and still in the dust on some shelf in ny room.
And I'm not sure what's to be done, right? It seems so easy to fall as a stone. But really, truly, the stars that shone as suns on the way down could never be matched by the fuzzy points that crossed my eyes when my poor old head hit th ground.