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Tonight, undressed, asleep, I saw through my eyelids, shut,
Yellow, fluffy flowers in my room -- of the kind I'd never
Seen. Room reminded of amnesia, no dust, no past,
Empty and dysfunctional, nowhere, though I called it shelter,
I called it mine. Geometry dominated lines.
Yellow was the only color, fluff was the only tactile
Sensation. In no time flew in, from no space outside,
Yellow, fluffy birds I'd never seen. I knew in an instant
They were drawn in by flowers -- not by their seeds, but by
Their affinity -- caught by the yellow which under fingers
Was felt to be but fluff (though alien in form and kind
To each other were they -- more than flora to fauna, stillness
To motion.) Still tomorrow, morning or not, I wake
Up to see through the impervious polychrome -- doors and windows
Intact, and lids in place, and laces in shoes, and hair
Brushed – to see, to touch the yellow fluff of your eyes, my fingers
Can’t reach but feel, as if my eyes are still shut, my space
Fired by yellow
Flickering but
Fleeing.
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