Off-white as undiluted milk,
the sun’s light dies out.
It fades to drowned
porcelain blue, caressing
the edge of things
out of existence,
until ‘things’ becomes ‘thing’,
until light squeaks
and is gone,
stoppered like smoke
in sunk night.
Off-white as undiluted milk,
the sun’s light dies out.
It fades to drowned
porcelain blue, caressing
the edge of things
out of existence,
until ‘things’ becomes ‘thing’,
until light squeaks
and is gone,
stoppered like smoke
in sunk night.