reading is a rhythm

I see myself again

glazing to unopened shutters

And curtains glowing red behind

Because there are a hundred layers

Before we see the clouds

Outside the blur

The green spring

The moss, a haze

I shall be

Swimming

Pretending the waves 

Are blue 

And

When the stars go out at night

I'll be looking at it

With a lamp in my hand

they will see it

And it will be

Like a mirrored view.











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