everyday,
making the days yellow and blue too,
bringing closer you to you.
Humming surreal what it is to you,
Drifting so real,
the unrealized, the unfelt,
we would never know.
The unsaid to be said,
the untried, he failures, the unhoped,
the hope to follow,
the undone to be done.
Live once in thought,
in any moment,
if it was yours,
if it soaked you in,
drenched I might be,
not cold but wet.
Carrying abundance,
of what?
We wither, we shed, we shred,
too much to put together, but there is.
Just to be,
in the here and now,
at desk, on table mats, on paved paths,
midst of colourful wires and neon lights,
while sipping cups, while staring at rust,
break into my daytimes, few of those.
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