Freudian Arc
Want to sway with the tree tops
want to race the raindrop down the pane
The day is solid and nighttime almost invisible
mist eats the land
nothing more than nothing
less ponders more
anger bites my lip
and pain ebbs easy with the little blinks
depression hides behind the eyes
that seldom interact
with smiles
a Freudian arc.
Copyright © Christopher Quigley | Year Posted 2019
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