re-entry of a state
in which
i put me nearer
to me:
this sad arrhythmiac music.
hauled out of church, i stood in a courtyard. it was sunshine. far away a dog was barking. the sun fell on the garbage bags and relieved their black surfaces with static, gathered rivers of reflected light.
the sweet ancient smell of thin heated plastic: garbage bags in the sun. nearby there was a hill rolling, green from side to side. behind which the sun would set.
because i do not trust
the things of the light.
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