While at Work (but off the clock) VI

Ten days isn’t long enough to forget routine, right?

Wrong.

Fingers have forgotten patterns, run through

A thousand times before,

The brain, creaks, shakes off the dust

Of sun and hazy views, city lights and still felt embraces,

The soul, or whatever it is that animates us,

Protests loudly

The imposition of desk and screen over

Languid days, chinese pastry, Hutongs

Dry wind

And sunrise through a 26th floor window.

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