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                                spent the morning
                                packing and planning
                I’ve got my crumpled cotton shirt and mala
                                the sky is skin-burn blue
                                and I’m off on holiday
                waiting in the car park in the middle of the noises of jobs
                                to somewhere two thousand miles away
                                with probably the same weather
                                and I don’t care if we’ve
                                forgotten anything





blue wormhole: dream I // dream II
holiday wormhole: walk from Castleton to Hope
letting go wormhole: breathing through hypnagogia
morning wormhole: just
sky wormhole: ‘charcoal grey-slate sky …’
sound wormhole: I turn to wake up
travelling wormhole: tragic and archival