the music across the channel sounded closer than the music in the room

the species is
made of
glass.

in an
amber room
made of
wood
music floats
like
snowflake;
crystalline,
lilting.

the species is
made of
glass,
its eye
looks out
on structures
believed solid.
as liquid
they
move.

music
burnishes the
amber room,
bringing to it
a shine
like
brass.

the species is
made of
glass,
holding
glass,
glass
holding
liquid.

the species is
warm
inside and
cool
to the touch.

the species is
precise
and yet
abruptly
brought to a
piling of
shard.
crystalline,
lilting,
motionless.

in an amber
room
music hangs
from crystal
fixtures,
light pours
down
in mahogany
red.

the species is
made of
glass.

vanilla fire
lights the
rooms,
turning glass
to honey,
honey to
wood, wood
to sand.

the species is
made of
glass,
in starched
cloth it
seats itself
upon a slate
floor.

a slate floor,
cold
to the touch,
warm within.

light finds home
in a species
made of
glass,
a species
that gathers
the light,
scatters it
across
to wood and
to sand.

sand
becomes
species, species
becomes
sand.

a face floats out of the dark. sitting at a table, with a small oval window next to it, a body is mostly ensconced in darkness. the face, glows dimly.

Published by Zak

an intertidal island in an ocean of impermanence.

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