Longing

Ever since I can remember, I would have bouts of longing. Not for anything I could name. Or the names I gave the longing and then satiated in the way those names might demand never did seem to do the trick.

I need a drink. I need to get laid. I need to round this bend and find…something…that is not a corn field or a stand of trees or more open road.

Something is missing. Something I didn’t know I ever had has been lost and I want it back.

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