Thoughts in the windows of time flashing,
Sitting, standing - however it may be,
The middle of the room not quite middle enough
Creep to the edge of dreams,
A finger in a mouth - picking about,
Tapping time away - looking down
Sunlight peeks through the curtain of clouds,
Steam trails rising - cups of warm mediums,
Dust collects the friends of neglect on all we are
Music plays - ripples of sound in time,
Hearing, heard, hardly,
Stands to hold the contents of our lives
Thoughts - again the loving lassoing of the fleeting,
Bodies coalescing - reminders of flesh's mortality living upon us,
Harmonizing lines blending the energies of two or more
These things I do see,
See these things do I,
Eyes do not - and the heart will.
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