Sleights of Hand
When the light is playing tricks on your eyesShadows are feathers and fans
See what there is not to see otherwise
Someone looking through fingers,
At night a city coccooned in electronic buzz'=
Hiccupping mosaics of what, just because
Music like deep violet inky rivers beating
Tattooed drumtaps in your heartbeats fleeting
Patterns of reserve before crackle and snap
Places to go and see beyond any map
Is not anyone to be otherwise
While the light is playing tricks on your eyes~
Poetry by Chaucer Whethers
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Written on 2022-03-06 at 15:09
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