Yoga guide term of the day: posterior diaphragmatic breathing. Only I could make a poem out of this.
And, by the way, have you ever felt your tail bone? It is probably the least purposeless feeling. Why have such a bone when you can’t wriggle it?!
While my gaze slipped through the windows of two pubs, my head – loosely covered by a dark green umbrella, mismatched to the sky – followed closely the trail of my imaginary stalker through the winding street. Victorian browns gradually disappear. Only by few cars reflected yet made prisms through each street light. The rain knows only one route: down. [Did you know that without resistance/renitency (word origin: 1613), the air stopping the rain from picking up speed due to gravity, rain would be as fast as around 650m/s. Enough to kill us. One drop at a time.]
And I'm not just writing through my posterior.