Excellence from Ward Clever and The Laundry Maid
That silent feeling, starting in your soul’s center
Spreading out like a shot of brandy
Internally emotional and externally numb
Does it quiet the mind
Or make it more chaotic?
Still, I see your face — an apophenia
Tight in the popcorn ceiling above me
Where everything is white
Neatly spread out in their places
Yet, without direction
The illusion of motion surprises me
I close my eyes, and remember
Do I hear your voice?
Or is it the memory of your voice?
It whispers both chaos and comfort
Something that was once easy to swallow
Part clover honey — part sarin
To tame me quick and then burn me
A razor for the mind
Mysteries pour out of us both
Pooling beneath our bodies
Dazzling brilliance piercing my vision
As when eyes are closed tightly
Like the shutters over the windows
Will we, too, become chipped and dusty?
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