a snow of butterflies : texticity

by Tomorrow's Man

May 28, 2004

You hand someone your soul. It isn't like dumping a bowling ball in a wet paper bag into their lap; it is more like you took an hour to slide your hand into theirs and twine fingers while they were asleep.

They wake.

There, they've got your soul.

What would you now have them do? Where does it leave you? See now, you don't even have a wet paper bag.

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