Under June’s hot and enormous sapphire sky,
(which weighed boulders on my shoulders like mountains of paperwork when one has a dead pen)
I sat in my swivel chair, having just made an important deadline.
I dreamed of having more time to walk around town
and hear the soft conversations of happy heads whose eyes were not transfixed on me.
I would’ve liked more time to catch the breath which sprinted away from my body like an escaped convict.
The air figured out long ago that rushing this way and that is no good and the air wants no part in it.
So I tried to catch new breath,
while with great anxiety my mind wandered to all the other deadlines I had to meet.
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