nuit de veille

it’s when a tear of dark water collides with billowing walls, of minuets in captivity, clouds and piers muffled in the beat of summer on the verge of a storm. a moment inevitable finds the ground. flower’s delirium falling..revealing.
because the night and sorrow of city dust fades bones and bruises to the sleepy eyes of earth. in the street, lit with only a breath, struggling to see a particle of space to slip the burning nettle of a fractured skin away. untiming the vulnerable. avant que l’ombre.
and what is beauty? a wondrous escape, a solace in a chamber of the soul injected with dream of oblivion? a luminous shore rushing to save itself, to save the bright new world?
my home: dimmer, rooted, quieter.
there’s nothing to forgive. you are beauty shaped away from categories. raining, imperfect and free.


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