In castings we filled the still
With returning’s and jutting out
Of muffled beats. Drifting into
Reforming clouds drained of all colorful
Sounds. Somewhere along the silver
Linings we blended into parting skies—
Where the last light was already behind.
Hidden under the vale of brim, we
formed notions with unuttered longings and
heaves with whispered lulls.
Where strands barely seem to contain
The embers that couldn’t withstand
Their overtures. Here, I reach towards
The faint position that covered itself
In inks disguise—which held the easier hand.
Revolving literacy tries to mend the notion
Inside of turning cures, already fading
From the green light he had memorized from shore.