22 Sep 2016

I feel the night staring at me with its hollow, insomniac eyes, one waiting for the relief of the inescapable dawn and other hoping it will never come.

The night is a polished mirror, upon which the dreamless cast their reflection.

You think that trapped in our fragile cocoons, we peer out at the world, interpreting it in our own colours, shaping it to fit the contours of our limited imagination.

Truly believing that it is the only reality.

The unimaginable reality, Marcus, then how will we ever know it.

inside the raindrop
the dark shadow
of an empty cloud

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23 thoughts on “22 Sep 2016

  1. Such powerful surrealism! Written in the style of Italian cinema of the 1960s in films like ‘Blow Up.’
    Really a hard-edged piece, dramatic, posing concrete questions, with superb haiku. Just superb.
    This is a hard-hitting one, jostling the reader. Reaches in a grabs. Wonderful writing.

    Liked by 1 person

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