Ideas Arrive In the Dark
Not much in the light that blinds.
Not much
in the sunny jocularity of the excited breath.
Not much from the two tarnished windows.
Grey matter lives as a sleepless lizard,
lobotomize the beast,
ideas are heavier than light,
stay where the shadows dance,
see the jewel
set within its unlit bezel.
Nothing original arrives
while staring at the sun.
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