Those low hours, too.
Those dusty constellations
And clandestine little accidents
To pass for moment dragging.

Subtle, also.
Subtle pitched they cast
Beneath a lampshade insight
Swinging lightbulb pendulums
To match routine eclipses.
And the thing is this,
The moments seem so
Apathetic nowadays
That hours play like ocean tides
And secrets morning plans to break.

Dim as well.
Ill-defined the difference
Where the ends are met,
One minute to the next
Just lends itself to borrowed time,

And I’m in debt up to my chances
For tomorrows sight unseen
Who might be turning on
These lowest hours
Somewhat surreptitious.

So I’ve noticed how
The shadows now,
They spread a bit attenuated.
And I’ve apprehended dawning
Tendencies to let them wane.

Well the same it goes for hours
As for guarantees I’ll have them here,
The lowest ones at least,
The lowest ones I will.

#Paris #France

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