I come upon darkness outside my sleep on the night of rain and wind, the leaves swaying united against the world’s light, in silky black protest at the gates of hell.

That is when rain falls on a world’s dark from clouds of trees in their silent skies beyond the parapet of daytime shadows, trembling with a lack of matter to show.

Shadows make soft sibilant sounds undistinguished from a fall of the rain hardly heard over the world’s darkness spread outside peripheries of my sleep.


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