An abruptness volcano says
you are becoming sick of this;
and I am. The humming of
the grindstone against us is
wearing a groove that's the width
that it's flat cylindrical side is.
You are the grind wheel and I am
pushing the pedal and gears of life
or the great fleshy lack of them.
I know exhaustion too of what
flattens a life; of the thousand
small grains of sandstone in a pile.
