it’s strange
this ache i feel
this tugging of ghost strings
pulling me back into
the technicolor cinemascope
the dream
the dream
that time has passed
been left behind
swallowed up &
can never be lived in again
a house burned down to ash & smoke
this ache…
has it always been with me?
have i always been entangled
in these ghost strings?
this web of sand & mirrors?
this kaleidoscopic movie
dancing through my life
from birth to death &
back again?
this ache
this dream
this time when i am 8, 17, 22, 43, 75, 96…
this oceanic dreamtime
washes through me & around me
in
red & gold &
green & silver &
indigo
it’s strange…
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