winter shadows on the table in the hall

 

 

 

 

I hear the quiet
in the dark

and smell the warm sunlight
dancing across the wall

I see the crack in the jar
where the cover doesn’t quite fit

I feel the chip in the wall
in the shape of a ragged heart

I taste the offering of sweetness
waiting on the table

 

I think

this is me

my self portrait

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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