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Creation Stalks the Sandman

Even little kids have a hard time figuring out life and death.
Fragility.
I Heard an echo once and it went something like this:
"There was something in the air at that moment.
It all happened when Light and Dark aligned.
An eclipse released prism rays along the way.
We went beyond asphyxiation.
Pain sang a melody so thick.
All was beautiful.
Boundaries were crossed and borderlines dissipated.
Magenta swooped down from the very ledge of Pluto and with it the rain came.
I could see particles of peoples voices singing in space time
and you were smiling so rich an icicle turned over
and burst into a thousands seeds of new beginnings.
This was the Violet Hour, it was here."
It was an echo, remember?
Nothing more.
What color were you today?
No, not Magenta, I was Earl Gray and it was loud.
Who woulda thought?
It was just how I felt.
It coated my insides and held me tight.
For a moment I was content.
Lately, I feel dispersed.
Thankful all the same that I am . . . somewhere.
Scattered.
My determination has a hold on me.
Makes me wanna scream, but I won't.
Eager light yearning to reach out but can't within a black block.
That's somewhat how I feel.
Clock, clickity.
And then I walked.
Maybe it's strange to end it like this.
You think it's rushed.
I crush.
Never hush.
Blush and lust.
Bleed and dream.
Gleam subliminally.

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