w w w . J u d e M u r p h y . c o m
Seduced by murky chatter
and twilight harmonies,
a smugness in the light
painting its subjects
in bold strokes with a soft brush,
my eyelids let down their guard.
My blood is flowing
by an unknown pulse,
I can hardly care to think of it.
The back of my mind says
it won't translate into a thought.
A little breeze,
a yawn.
I look around smiling vaguely.
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