Sunday 9/12/2021 10:32:00 PM

 Maybe yellow. Maybe green. I don't really know anymore. The colors that we are. 

Time happens in the grays. Life erupts in the reds. 

Sharp and stringent. 

We play with the pieces. drawing maps on half assembled pictures. 

Maybe now. Maybe then. I don't know for sure. If I was betrayed at the beginning or the end. 

or in what way it matters. 

the buttons. the zippers. the seams. eventually. they all come undone. a soft avalanche of touch that gracefully obliterates everything in its path. 

All that remains are the windows. the fetid reflections of  what once was there. 

and the crumbling  exits. That pretend we can still escape. 

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