Red

 

Red sky morning:

you call to talk of death

I have no pass

 

to the eternal.

 

We light bulb solutions

of dissolution: I dredge the past

for living slime

 

find none.

 

Mystics chime with

incandescence, but I fear

cascade of crashed synapse

 

misfired neuron.

 

We stutter with the silence;

all we ever have is now,

this crystal morning.

 

All we ever have is ‘’now’’

& our memories.

Where love might mark us

 

fitting.

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