There was an old painting in my grandparents' attic. Neither beautiful nor ugly, it simply depicted an empty room with no figures, an old living room with an armchair, library, and fireplace ... [+]
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
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