Twilight now
no certain edge
no end nor beginning of it,
an inperceptible slide.
Colours smudge,
blood turns black
(its bitter colour)
lost in peeled shadow.
All ruins stir-
a swung memory,
tacit rhythm,
mumbled sight pitter-patters.
A moth wing trepidation
vibrating mica dust,
dew singed,
a collapse in certainty.
A heavenly moment
of relapse.
cascading inconsequence.
silent dice tumbled,
bounce and settle.
—
simonhlilly 