not so gentle
haunts
my vision,
squinting
apertures, a
singular reflex
dominates,
with more
than it needs;
colors of reds
and blues,
browns and
browns and
yellows,
and a few
greens,
float across the
exterior of
my sight,
leaving me
wondering if it
morning,
noon or
night,
and if my
and if my
quest will
ever end.
29Mar18
29Mar18
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