Bright harsh smarting sunlight,
Dashing through slits under plywood.
Shadowed, smoky,
Claustrophobic cool cuboid.
Dead-pan dormancy, to
Familiar spinning fan sound.
Poetry traveling on mellow vocals.
Encircling and slowly padding down,
Softly settle, limp and stay.
Blank eyes doing injustice,
To time sandwiched,
Between parallel fast and slow,
Of thought and image.
Fast bending slow,
Into mood meander,
Until morpheus excuses…
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