Temporarily blind

Tiles of nothing

flip over in my memory

like photos of some things

that I look for when I’m lonely:


Sounds of nature

and music from before,

or words on crumbled pages

that lay forgotten on the floor.

They flicker like short circuits,

corroded by the rain,

until I reconnect them

once I find the time again.


So I try, I try, and I try

to find the key I left behind,

until I come to realize

that I held it in my hand

and just fell temporarily blind.


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