Wednesday, April 13, 2022

Asleep in a blurred crusade

I am aware,

That the time

between us is limited. 

Water, sand and time all trickle.

we share clocks and calendars in the ether,


So, okay for indefinite fixtures that soon grow wild,

sleep, or waiting(waxing), no wings are grown or aligned, unspoken/unfurled, 

murdered and wise where fishes' tails drift into memory 


Don't be startled,

the cork is off the bottle,

the genie lives, 

escaped.

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