forgive me, Marcel

Being alive is the knowledge
That above my house, the full moon is pure white
But higher upstate, traveled at the wee hours of the morning
It’s yellow fabric stretched over a lamp

And the sprinklers watering the fields
Rarely needed human supervision
Casting ghosts like fog on the side of the road
Fodder for a five-year-old imagination

The radios plead for us to wait for someone
But it’s been years since my bedroom door lock changed
The world unfolds in technicolor vision before me
Congrats, you survived to a brand new day

Headlights drag themselves across the highway
With sleepless eyes and desperate hearts
I wish I could show you in more colors than black and white words
But I’m not a cyborg with a projector

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