In the Small Hours

Fanciful and varied
are the voices trickling
through the screen of disassociation
which so veils my brain.
Some are tinged with doubt,
while others bring with them
recollections of more lucid moments
than this one gorging itself on darkness.
I’d like to capture them all
in clasped hands if I could,
but they’re too quick,
too many.

-r. miller

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