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.