a snow of butterflies : texticity

by Tomorrow's Man

November 07, 2005

I found a bag with 34 words. I threw it to the ground and they spilled. This is what they said:

"The ego climbed the mountain, then tumbled to the sea. Wrapped in scraped skin and bruised, it crawled to a calm pool in a shallow where it sighed, "I'm so glad to be me."

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