“Accidentally Derrida,” March Sketches (#1)

Tell me of sin and I’ll laugh”
Tim Buckley

I awake from this slumber,
deconstruct this fiction.
Flashing across my consciousness:
storming blue horses,
gin, staggered romance
addictions worn thin.
Sunlight swirls above and
below the horizon line.
Time unfolds upon itself.
I shoot myself beautiful,
expand this moment and
turn back at once to
life’s luscious lechery.
It’s a little tease of
what’s to come
If I can lose my grip
on this fabricated world
and simply
be.

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