Some Visions

In the canvas of the overcast sky,
there are blurry molecules or curly hairs floating.

Through a stye on the underside of my eyelid,
the streetlights look like they’re crying.

In the evening after a full day’s work,
trapped photons bounce around inside my eyelids.

Through dilated pupils after being prescribed readers,
the Christmas tree lights look like a wall of frozen explosions.

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