N.C. Live & The Guts of Cats

Sometimes,
the sky opens.

Can you hear it?

Nothing but
everything, with
a drag of hands
across time itself.

Learned from
prestidigitation.

Inside out,
the deck of smoke
& mirrors.

Playing into the lies
of simple truths.

Faded away
into a whiskey
shot.

Say something…

please, say anything.

Β©2020 J.D.C.IV

Hands-of-time

 

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