I sat looking at the artificial grain of
the fake wood of my desk at work.
I observed the shapes and form,
And was suddenly overcome by
the desire to disappear into it.
So quiet, so calm,
Stillness flowing
Flowless stilling
Motionless moving.
Then I resumed my work,
And the desk was just a desk again.
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2 comments:
You are ahead of me - the artificial wood of my desk is so battered that it's hard to see much in it any more. The sharpie marks are probably its best feature.
-wombat
Only in my own mind. LOL
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