The grainy texture of hazy memories
evokes myriad long forgotten tastes
some ambrosial, some miasmic
some that leave me pasty faced.
suspended in the half light of living
an unnamed bird flutters haplessly
singing no song of eternal hope
yet it can’t stop whirring its wings endlessly.
tonight the moon’s forehead is lined with worries
the fragrant skies will smolder throughout the night
heaving under the haze of monochromatic thoughts
the sun’s endeavour to slight the moon may never come to light.
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