cryogenic waterfall of day's not-yet-light
embraces barely intoned shadows
as i recline on creaking embers of furniture
daisy-eyed pallor or another petal of nostalgia
braces me for what is best know as today
poses for tomorrow through my fevered reverie
my hands are trained to trace the shapes of thought and memory
in a barnburning wakefulness that cant be avoided
patterns in stone behemoths
gain on clarity
the longer i stare at a derailed grid system
chimes outside reckon with clapboard fabric
and resemble another event
that has passed and dissipated
in a camouflage treadmill of recycled wind
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