SHADOWS AND
DARK
And me, I want so much to make a time :
a gray, dark time; a tan, faint time of brushless
shadows and washes. I want to live in the harbor
of the shadow of Death, and see all its wandering
souls, illicit loves, and general peace and quiet.
Take me from this sodden morass - where
things
clump and stick, where piles of the same are massed
against each wall : bare lights boldly blinding the
borders
and edges of every singly realized object. Everything -
screaming now together - sounds but a useless road.
Nothing is worthwhile said when there is nothing
worthwhile saying. All things have been devalued.
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