Colors before bedtime
in black and white
the world you want, or dead film
crystal chandelier lights on a blank ceiling
a conversation that says what has already been said
We all have our hang-ups
a ring, that never stops ringing
distortions
disguised in real life
like a detective drama
clear
defined lines
like well-ordered books
in an Egyptian library
before revolution
If the gravitational reentry is 24 hours
did you see something worth seeing?
Knowing your art
is like knowing yourself
in a new way
When you recognize its flashes
of brilliance
it’s like a shadow
you grew out of
that returns to you—
a form that doesn’t quite fit.
As we change, our art changes
We create, and leave behind
our orphaned child, loved and left
for someone else
their mind possessing our mind
like a universe merging into another universe
a story told from one generation to another
like a mountain, washing-out to sea.
I like the lines ” we all have our hang ups, a ring, that never stops ringing”
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I’m so glad you like my writing!!! Thanks for reading Memoirs of a Moustache! You have such a great name!
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Thank you. You should see my moustache lol
Deff check out my blog, I’d like to hear what you think
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Will do! 🙂
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