Last Shake #9506 – small stone Jan 15

We are like tiny insects, congregating on the back of a sleeping giant, 
who groans and writhes in his sleep.  
That body beneath us roars and trembles.
You hear him before I feel it, and rush toward me, bright blue eyes shining with the now familiar dark shade of fear.  
I wonder, as the giant and you return to rest, how many more your little body can absorb.  

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