5 am, in a small town

The mayflies kiss the glass
Of restaurant windows
Clinging to it

They mirror the fog
Pressing into the corners of everything
And the space in between

The restaurant is a
puddle of light in the
world
Soaking across the parking lot
Sponging helplessly at the mist

The mayflies just
stare inside greedily
Swallowing the
electric bulbs
whole
2

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