Words from my notebook

Dust Jar 

The corners of my eyes,
Full of dust and sleep,
Are shaded by old blankets
With ladders where the edges
Were loved too much.
Hiding between the dark matter
And the strings that join,
Quiet in the folded linen.
The sheets possess secrets
While I dream and wonder;
Keeping still and hush about the location
Of my mind:
Stowed in a glass container
And left to the stars.

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