Tuesday, January 9, 2018

10,382. IT'S QUIET

IT'S QUIET
Here's something. The wrapper tells me.
They don't wrap 'nothing,' after all. Such
are the evidences of this life : Empty
boxes and un-used portions, leftover
edges of time. As for myself. encased
in a particular amber, I bide time by
years, and count those same years as 
time. And when I am gone, like those
wrappers  -  empty skins and voided
places -  I'll be finished waiting. 

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