Shifts

2025-11-30

Shifting, ever slightly, as days go by. +++

There exists a sort of hue, a palette that makes up the mind.
Sight, with time, discovers and forgets old.
Sounds and silence, mutter past the breath, lost.
Scents softly mix, dancing, thickening.
Saliva secreting, swallowing, spitting.
Soft against the hand, hard against the foot.
Where beneath the ground we walk, shifts.

Shifting, ever slightly, as days go by.