sjsprWriting

Strangeness fills your every touch

Every touch fills your smile like it fills your eyes like it fills your senses

It is strange to often think about you like I think about the sun

It stays there, it waits, it listens

Listens to the roar of the unscented vacuum

the deep and shallow and steep unscented vacuum that roars with you.

With every piece and every inch of you.

It roars like the waves crash like the glasses shatter like the hopes break.

It often breaks and comes back and breaks and comes back and breaks and breaks and breaks.

It roars often, it roars slightly, it roars dimly,

Lights turn off,

the universe renews,

the vacuum ceases to exist.