Stethoscope ears for a heartbeat like the flick of an apparent apparition on my shirt cuff’s cusp I know I felt while our perceptions closed
I like melancholy and the fraught as much as I like joy and folly these are interiors that cannot be repainted wallpapered or bricked up for the sanctuary in one’s imagination
Apprehensions calculated remotely not in an underground facility for familiar territory long gained though scoring points with the mind’s fragility
Out of our peripheral visions capture the occasions for planting is lacking a season’s exposure in an ideal scenario a far cry from the picture on the wall.