rove

Wherever I aimless roam – Marvelous beaches, sparkling sand, glittering water. I taste salty dewdrops of the morning. They take residence on my tongue, reminders that all is flowing omnipresent; Should be marveled in a state of wonder. Yet, I remain constantly nonplussed. Take all things as given. Strangers’ bed comatose remains; Icicles that do not melt come summer. In the Mars Rover, Dune Buggy, over hills and down valleys as the motor sputters and gives out, I hear it call my name. The appeal of the emptiness and the glorious moments of what it must be like to be alone. I have forgotten the silence like I have forgotten what my bed feels like when I’m away from home for far too long. The shirts are all neatly folded in the drawer. The dust cascades in mists. Traveler, creature, wanderlust, dictionary cheat. Looking through binoculars, attempting to focus. Lookout watchtower from the pirate ship. No dramamine trades for an eye patch. Marvelously stupid idea. Playground rulebook. Methodology denied. Cannot argue someone else’s point of view.

Author: Roe

29. she/her. Songwriter & Trek Punk Soul™.

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