Images behind images, this world is made in different films,
Shades of transparency, translucent and opaque -
there are sometimes, when I have no matter as the molecules of my mind shatter -
what is there to look for and wonder,
what is there that takes a hope for some slumber in the times
life shows the gliding glitter on the living remains of your brain
the functionality - is gone and now what remains is bits of little memories
that can take us now, nowhere, for the places have already been visited
the stars have already been broken and hoped upon
the feelings already taken, the pictures already seen, the storm already brazen
when the body lays at its feet -
silent into a long sleep knowing not when to become -
the sand grain flowing against time of itself
knowing not what floats in your black eyes
knowing not what dirt has made home in your blood raised its home
knowing somewhat how your itch has been tearing up its feel once in every minute to make you hand go back to the scratch to where it had all started
life is a mystery, please don't try to own it. all I ask is when will you show up to live?
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