anyone’s story

Hyacinth garden

he calls her name as she chronicles within eclipse.

brackish tears blind, while stealing a look from loveless eyes.

the Artist seen as a pseudonym investigates a lime light of neon performance.

she’s seen missing and glimpses at a closed-minded gaze.                        

between the urban aspects of light are shapes shifting dreams.

lens freezes the frame and eyes glaze over at every mirrored incident.

monochrome dusk uses no colors from vision.

they seem alluring submissions in night’s dark enchantment.

faint pleasures, they hypnotize like little pastel fragments.

abide by her schemes only the influence of lesser capacities reflect.

disconnect from focus as dialogue and poems quickly pass.

and know that this could be the wane of anyone’s story.

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