Wednesday, February 8, 2017

The almost-dark

I love sitting in the almost-dark of what I almost know, thinking less than feeling where I might or might not go when next I stand, if indeed I’m granted that — to the kitchen for more coffee, or perhaps one more spin through an eternity of stars. But really there’s no difference, is there, if I can imagine that, and you can smile kindly, and gently pat my back — you, so almost-near, and almost-far, and as light as light is almost-dark.

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