Titles by Closed EyesFour and seven.Titles by Closed Eyes by RedWombat
Times. To stare.
Like lit up paper-lanterns.
Flames flicker upon wood-pulp flattened and dried.
I can hum if I try.
Seconds to the death of open eyelids.
I forgot. What it was like.
What it will be like.
Is like what I do not care to taste again.
I sip and sit to the taste of ice.
Sit and sip,
Time is light, up like paper-lanterns.
Flames across the patio.