Sundown Short Story

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“Sundown”
Sundown,
like three-dimensional etchings, leaves the night prowled by a parade of ghostly blues...
Glowing like the luminescence of a billowless sea, it drowns both voyeur and fugitive beneath limitless vistas of telescoped remembrances...
And as the breeze becomes the forerunner of a Halloween’d sweetness, the pungent earth draws cobalt curtains around a world now hushed in expectation...

“Chill”
January chills the newborn April day, and beckons across frost-flowers tiered against the sun.
Desultory fingers shimmer around their edges: to plunge you deeper into my life than the silence of a desert night...

“Distrust”
Tarred truth, tepid Halfling, flung undaunted
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But Time, being a fleeting ghost of a word, leaves us always short of breath and unprepared for dissolution.
And all the words
I would have spoken again to you in love, lie crying like lost children behind a barrier I cannot breach...

“Ute Mountain”
Isolate,
shimmered cones top the corners of the sky, waiting through cold and lonely nights for reawakening...
Slumbered fast against the blue, massive shoulders shrug away winter snows, unaware of the slow life-pulse beating around them; the change of subtle rhythms marching to meet new suns...
Silent,
aloof, you brood behind hooded eyes–– not so much patient, as unapproachable...

“Blurring”
Clocks whir their laughter away in leaded frames; each successive mosaic blurred and stretched through the moments as we voyeurs slip along (in ignorance or in love) to blend indistinguishably, frame into frame, until at last our borders become hazy and inseparable from one another...

“Refusal”
A piece of me recalls the warmth of you; the fierceness of
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