Words From The Infinity...

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So says the map, which is sort
of a lie
I rarely find myself in the
same place at the
same time.

My shadow gliding the feets;
my reflection sliding from my yesterday sown seeds;

the Monday that
feels like a Sunday.

I'm following my
walk
and the destination is always a
feeling, always mapless, arriving
sideways
somewhere
some sunny
feels, rolling
thunder in all those pains.