lachrymose she whispered
against silver paint
unsewn and floating
refractory she whispered
fold the light
“you may notice your existence sparkles for a bit”
in the afterward
8 thoughts on “erasement”
You never see the sparkle until the afterwards. Or in the darkness.
Keep sparkling, my dear. We all see you when you enter the room. Promise.
Awww … I like you.
The bits of sparkle. Those are the memories that shine forever.
Although they make driving tricky.
There is truth in erasment at least outside. Feels vulnerable and stubborn. Bits if sparkle bother me with all of there dimming snd disappearing. So fascinating too. This somehow brings relighting candles to mind. Damn.
*of *their Ack!
I have always liked your thoughts, Robin.
Today as always.
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