to be consumed

by some separated time

or a very separated idea

on a volume of times apart

and what was gotten out of it

could it be that the water

passing in front of the moon tonight

is the secret time you dream into

while the minutes

of stillness pass

Any other rooms you are a close as this

I have a good golden feeling

to carry across the abyss

into a dark curtain of next day’s release

and as I make an orange drink drop

down my throat as a

matching color sunsets around

the last place we talked

and I miss you that much more

till you come home

About jaybeasley2

a writer, a painter, a poet, a wordsmith
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