He was seated on the cold marble floor. Naked, as he rocked to and fro on an unseen chair. Swaying to his own metronome, as he hummed a looped song. A faint yet familiar score to a grainy black and white movie that he played over and over in his head. Reflecting on each scene, his fingers twirling at measured intervals in the air. As he flipped each unturned stone to find meaning in the grays.
But answers are elusive. And so he endures the cold. Naked, as he rocks to and fro. Searching for balance, but never finding his center.
3 comments:
hmmmnnn... i love this post...
you made me think interpreting each line...
@Senyor Iskwater: Thanks SI
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