Sensory overload

Twilight passes quickly here

in the rose colored world where I live.

Daily rhythm


laundry machine

-fingers tapping keys –

And the smooth, vibrato sound of molasses dripping from a muted horn.

A  minor seventh barely resolved

A minor movement of fingers and breath.

Twilight passes quickly here

in the rooms, in the space in my mind

Where I dream and remember and strive and forget

Waking only to dream again.

Words written and removed

pour forth like laughter

like tears

Making sense only to the one who pours

forth life into death and grace into darkenss

And light at the end of the day.

The twilight passes quickly here

rose colored world and rooms aside.

Darkness tinged with too-low lights

stars lost in the artificial glare, moonlit

darkness comfortable and quiet

but the darkness cannot stay.



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