My frequent visitor greets me.Sometimes I know when she is comingOther times it is a spontaneous arrival;Either way, I eagerly wait.Often my stationary existence is spentReflecting on the opposite wall;A hypnotic mix or black, white, and greyLike thousands of marbles have splatteredAnd claimed their space of permanence,Only tarnished by the flitting shadowsThat enter through theContinue reading “Distorted”
Amie's Library 