blinking back
I’ve spent the summer in a very deep hole, under a very large stone, digging my way to the center of the earth. Only now do I notice the time, witness the emptiness of my calendar. I furrow at the endless unanswered calls … the messages, the notes. Carrier pigeons and bottles litter my cave. I have become a singularity with an inverted gravity field … repulse, repulse, repulse, repell.
and no matter how lonely my hole, it cannot be so lonely as to open the line.
I’ve been exhausted, broken, and even my hair has left me.