so what is with all of this apocalyptic photography?
not in the smiles, but in the gently
heaving winds of a background cataclysm
the falling fingers on a living piano
the deep chords, the subtle ones
the ones that make you shake in your bones.
what is it with the end of days?
beneath my cognitive whirl
i slink into the golden light of a january day
a photo that you took, before the end of it all
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