A lack Of motion (astraynotion) wrote,
A lack Of motion

Some more poetry.

Just so these don't get lost completely (although that is the fact of a lot of poetry, suitably).


The dusk
Has taken the colours
And the windowed world
Is blackwhite.
Yet the truth, bold and
Was ever in the greys.


Every day now, I wake four times over.
:To the chasm the falling the smoothering the grasping the choking the gasping the emptiness
-where warmth takes me back-
:To the stillstirring the restless undone and tangles, where stories begin in their middles and all is upending all over
-where warmth takes me back-
:To a weariness of startstop sleep, tired from waking, all over
-where warmth takes me back-
:To serenity. The faint breeze upon the evening.

Sanctum, inside
A warmth to carry.

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