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Time
A timeless infinity
Stretches in all directions...
Reaches high
But finds a ceiling,
Reaches low
But finds a floor --
This timelessness is only horizontal
It reaches for the goal
But dissolves it in water
Before it can be grounded
In a surreal place
Of touches and smells
But no sounds, no tastes, no visions...
If I am hearty, then forgive me,
For I do not belong here,
Far from the wind...
For senses, I prefer all the five,
Grounding me in a dun reality
That can always fit
Like an old pair of gloves.
There is no death but failure,
And there is no failure but death.
Copyright ©
Andrew Fairchild
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