Unquiet Light
I am not really here, and that's all right As long as I'm not actually trying to be. Maybe if I close my eyes I'll disappear; Nullified to a certain degree; dehusked, Or dehumaned; a myriad of posphenes, Traversing eigengrau. That could be me: Hankering reds and mystified blues and Emollient greens. That could be just me. Restless though, there still brims yellow, Ever longing to burst. Should I let it (go)?
--- 19-5-2026, M.A. Tempels ©










