And on the edges
like paint chipped
old and lead weighted
colors ancient drip
from cracked ceiling
cracked reality cracked
walls, flood of color like
love and the universe
staring through so much
I reach my hand in blinding
ooze of light and shape and
shadows some being beyond
the rim of understanding voices
like flashlights out into the sea
there comes and end to
everything and becoming
nothing is the next step
I let go
but not long enough
walk along the hard brown
shore listen to the hum of the
river the drowning wind
recall you've heard all this before,
only once
and that was moon
hanging overhead
overheard
what shape?
pull the rift closed
wipe running paint clean
it dries up again
it is lost
there where there
is no heavy drip
where the paint is sealed
there was never a hand
a body a reach a pull
only a funny dream,
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