Little grains of crazy sand fall in slow
motion through the world’s gigantic hour
glass, making snows seem electric & water
all-powerful. Your silver wingtips slice
the future skies & make my atmosphere go
crazy, each little moment, each tiny hit.
Last night I awoke to the sound of crazy
winds strafing my lonely house, circles
under my eyes, bad dreams knocking. Come
soon, gekkie! Time winds down like false
alarms, a siren signalling the all-clear.
This constant fight against desperation.
Pitched battles in the early morning. It
hadn’t rained. Fall, crazy sands, fall!

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