our day full of whites and browns and at some point some greens
perhaps for the first time in my life i realize
i have to respect and rely my well-being on
everything and everybody else but myself.
And for the first time in my life
my glassy solitariness is probably broken.
the fruits in the kitchen are shining
and sweet
singing to me what's not real
I am
ps. even in this fictional non-place
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