Spaces …

The world is turning,

Places burning

And everything pulls:

The dizzying spaces between

The grey sleeps,

The sharks,

The pages,

The too-familiar screens,

The seeds of hope and despair,

The wing beats of crows,

The deceitful paths,

The lonesome, maddening calls.

There’s neither blood let

Nor tears showing yet

But I can’t get into the temple

And I’m feeling

Too small,

Too distracted

To cope for much longer.

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