New poem.
This afternoon light,
picking up dust in the air
and the unmasked
then hidden at once
secret sadness
in the faces of
co-workers —
over the weekend,
the sudden spill
of light in the bar
at
closing time
that illuminates the writing
on the wall that says
“too long at the party” —
no difference in the light,
no difference
in the message.
Dark Matter 
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