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THESE SCREAMING HANDS OF TIME, IN MOTION
I have watched the sky, and seen things on the horizon come close enough that my fingertips vibrate in the instant before they make contact; I have watched my youth, and I have seen the progress go the other way.
I have watched the weight of years fall onto our shoulders, and watched the careless comments of younger minds slip from our tongues, perishing somewhere in the back of our throats. It was never enough to wear the cloak of youth
to shroud our scars, never enough to know that we still have
our whole lives ahead, stretching like a road into the distance where it becomes a single point, a single vision of a mirage, flickering in the distance– promising relief,
eternally appearing to have depth that our lives could never hold. These years have rained heavy on our hearts,
soaking through clothing, skin, organs, and penetrating into the depths
of the mirage we mask ourselves inside, as we look up at the sky, and recognize the shapes of clouds we saw on the horizon, not that long ago. |
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Josh Stewart is a student at the University of Toronto, and, like a good university student, has no plans for the future. Josh enjoys to play bass, eat sushi, wear hats, and wander around without a purpose or destination. |
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Dance to Death, Issue VII |


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©2008 Sorrowland Press and all respective artists within. |