The land is pulsing, and so are you. Your footsteps are the heartbeat of this earth. Congratulations.
There is little to see and little to know. Perhaps you have wandered down the wrong path.
There was a grass route as well, but at the time you believed dirt might lead to pavement.
Now, the moment your toes lift from the ground, the dirt floods your footprints.
It floods your mouth and lungs. It floods your veins and vessels. It floods your eyes and nerves.
Before long, your hands’ absence is lost. It, too, has been replaced by the dirt. Congratulations.
You are six feet tall but getting shorter. Six feet are under you, but two feet keep walking. Walking.
Maybe on tonight’s walk, you keep thinking, maybe on tonight’s walk, things will be different.
Maybe I can get home tonight. Get home clean and wash off the rest. You know you won’t.
You are the terrain now. You are the vessel. You are the bloodstream of this land. Congratulations.