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Drift Off
Roaring splinters from shuddering cars
and drifts through a sill into crashing waves of
sound, air, and dust. A fan stirs the stew of ambient
noise and static darkness. Cold sheets shock
agitation out from each individual cell and nerve and
I feel it join the clutter. The click of a switch
flushes the glow back into a bulb of glass.
Silence criss-crosses its threads into a woven
blanket. The day sits patiently at the door frame
just out of my sight. At first each blink blends with
obscurity but as my pupils tune themselves away from
the nighttime harmony I can’t stop myself. There’s no
lock for my eyes to keep themselves from vaulting
to the chair, the closet, the desk.
Papers tower like cities with untidy scribbles, a hamper
spies from behind a wall, an inviting chair opens its arms.
I can feel my thoughts marching in droves outward. I
rein them in and my eyelashes create a seal. Inside
they tumble and crash and I will wait for them to
cascade down in weary raindrops.
It's been two hours.
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