sometimes it's okay
to see rainbows across a clear glass
and there's no problem in
reveling on the weather
an instinct of
a chilly night; the right, perfect time
and grandeur of
the loud, screaming sun
anticipation of the now
not tomorrow or the next
just the moment of skipping through beats
racing through multitudes of pictures and places
not caring somehow
about the shadows running past
feeling what it is
the warmth of the red or even the blue
sparks.
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