Dear Reader,
sometimes – rarely, in truth – I write lyrics for songs.
Today it’s one of those days. I hope you enjoy.
Tumbling
I spend the hours
listening to everything
you no longer tell me.
I watch the songs
you’ll never listen to,
album covers
staring back, puzzled.
I listen to photographs
you’ll never see,
hearing the clicks
of unsent messages.
I lose myself
in the distance
of seas of time,
arcane masks
and spindles I spin
raising to fate
a glass of wine.
And I wait patiently
for the snow
to rise from the ground
back into the sky,
turning upside down
these days
lived in suspension.
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