Switching On the Light
each room bright
well lit I find
myself switching off
a light that’s not on
it’s off it’s bright
feast to the sight
walls are textured white
the moon looms
when the brightness dims
on shadowed limbs
outside-in and inside-out
and upside-down the lids
close and darkness hearkens
dreams and nightmares
and in betweens
til morning sits up
in its time and frolics
in my stead
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