endlessly

blue sky saturation to full – the greys come peeling in like mixed-race piano keys, like a fully embodied mirror of the hudson – muddy, murky, mellowing — and here we are, by 5pm the sky has turned mellow in October. by 9am the brisk of the cooling night has only slightly dissipated. and here we are, the time i have with my little one turning timelier and timelier. i’m not okay with the time, apparently. is it not the full flesh of a purpling peach – gathering time at the edges and pointing inwards? will i ever be old enough to love you? will i ever be young enough to know you? and here the pull of music pulls time away from me again, a little tap dance; a little curtain call; a little dream of how we used to be; a little dream that things will start making sense again, the way they always have, though time ticks through them at varying colors and degrees — the way they always have, though time ticks through them endlessly

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