Starry Spaces

I’ve sat in circles, in the center of the room with faces flush for conversation in a way I’ve always known. The walls have ways of fading, the faces all grow faceless. Their words yet spilling where their formless mouths believe, in these rooms I’ve all but left, watch my starry eyes recede. I’ve gone to all the spaces, to find the in-between.

This entry was posted in between the lines, contemplate, fading, nomad, notebook, once rare, prose, restless, the mad ones, transient and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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