moldy yellow curtain,
falling in loose
regiments. wide archs
and its little crinkles
in your heavy antiquated
fabric. You are stretched
sand dunes, vertical,
catching the lamplight
to the left and basking
in rightly shadows. your
faint, unobtrusive red and
blue speckles break
your sandy monotony
and the slim dark
cave of the outside world
struggles to peer past
your billowing clothes.
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