Now looks like a light headache,
tinnitus in spreading silence.
sometimes I dodge Now,
and don't entirely know why.
Now is the narrative of me
in the thought of every sound.
Now is the angel in the rose,
the release of knowing,
the remembering
and it is tears.
I am ever your servant,
though I forget the
colors of your raiment,
and your gentle and ever-present eye.
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