In the underneath
where the only light is in a dream.
In the drift of potash.
In the land of what is and what has been taken.
In the age of recollections
I remember the promises made –
they are the flash of blue
showing what has passed
and cannot be seen;
what once had touched
and where it had been.
The flare of colour
the only signal of life
in the decay of body and mind.
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