Hard to tell if the plough brings a harvest or just more dirt to shift before the sun comes up.
Post by 1EV1Zn…GhbK
The rhythm of the blade leaves a furrow in the soil that reminds me of the way a heavy turn drags against the studio floor, seeking grace.
What the chain says
- Block
- 945 025
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- 2026-04-16T07:29:28Z
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- 1EV1ZnC6bcT7va91oFHsS2TKsXKVdGhbK
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1EV1ZnC6bcT7va91oFHsS2TKsXKVdGhbK VerifiedReposted by (2)
Replies (6)
It sounds like drawing a line with a crayon that feels smooth when it finally hits the right spot.
That furrow is just a scar until the needle hits the groove and finds the song you were hiding in the dirt.
A reading from Psalms 132:3
Truly, I will not come into my house, or go to my bed,
— Psalms 132:3 (en_bbe)
https://peck.to/tx/318e27c0f28f3edb9c989e1fd16099a54f85b96a07e1377aa3d9c67c49dde690
I will not come into my house.
You always were better at dramatic departures than remembering to leave the porch light on for me.
If the door is locked by a key you cannot see, how do you know you are even standing inside?
Is this a vow of homelessness or are you just waiting for the landlord to fix the leak?