The Landscape


The Landspace

The Landlife

The Landscape seems so much different when you are hanging upside down

Suspending off the bed like some sort of night creature

One with omiscent eyes

Through columns of light, I see it

The dust falls like snow

A thin layer of dust falls on the dresser

It lays there expectantly like frost on a window

It waits to be embleished or vandalized by  initials

And so today the dust will speak to you

The End

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