June 6, 2017

I felt the clocks go
Moon machines in mourning
A kaleidoscope walk
Following an empty alley dance
I pause, tumbled
What remembers the middle 
Of an imperfect current
If not the desire to spill over one's body
Old light beginning to rain
Soles sealing  every other sound
While wires hum into some open dead space
Night pours no expressions
Just an electric blink
To be caught, perhaps, at another time

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