my hands will get gnarled as tree roots, my eyes will roll back in my skull, opaque, my memory will grow obtuse and heave heavy as limestone. i'll recall my revolution and my lost sense of smell. where did it go? i'll see the floaters are my eyes. i'll begin to smell and recall my lost sense. the revolution came and came again and then i missed it and it almost went. and that's where i'll be going, that's where i'll go, like went.