sleep, don't wake me:

If I could paint
I would these half closed blinds, lit and peering by paranoid neighbors, half asleep: half in a dream, an abductee of a frozen frame, a refugee caught in a dried and rotting wooden square

if I could paint you'd be a sunset
long since gone, but whose laughter echoes in the dark
stark as halogen lamps
ark buzzing the shell of life into these streets,
...

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