One-hundred and Three: When Light Thinks

When light thinks, it
pours. Wavy rainbows
tumble in pretty lines,
strong and straight
like rows of streets.

When light thinks, it
shimmers; it glows with
the hopes of the world,
all the dreams of souls
that they dare not expose.

When light thinks, it
warms cool hands. It
kisses lonely cheeks. It
coaxes you away from
all those dark, dark thoughts

and lets you think that you too can be light.


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I drink, I laugh, I smoke, I write.

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