"East Central Station"

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  • #5184
    Jt Smith

    human colours whirl
    as the dying stars are trapped
    by the centre of its gravity

    a wild, unrelenting ocean often does not repent

    under a blue sky where the low, yellow moon is covered by a willow tree

    there are such objects which situate themselves somewhere
    between illusion & improvisation

    a psychedelic breeze flutters in the stillness

    while flowers spread their love of holy seeds

    foreboding clouds remain, darkness enfolds sunset

    wait for the dawn to arrive, inside

    meditate while broken thoughts are clear
    reach for a star by its tail, observe the dance

    two steps into the frisson of future

    a lake is preferred to be sailed through its wistful soul

    dark things only matter to ones who glow in shades

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