Gravel-grit, words
perhaps, under wraps
behind the TV. Maybe
no words, maybe no
sound. Just before
sleep it’s so easy,
there is such simplicity
in distorting facts,
magnifying trivia, of course;
it’s so simple,
playing illusory games
with facts. Under
gravel-grit, just before
sleep, just as I
fall away from
a conscious role
into a dark hole,
did I see things as they truly are,
or
should I let the sound go?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
onward,
T
Dark Matter 