There is gloom painted on the walls, but only because that’s how everyone likes it.
When the sun goes down, behind a faraway building, we don’t bother to turn the lights on. In the blue, harsh TV screen, our faces artificially light up. Our emotions are suddenly in the limelight.
The joke’s on everyone else, as they stare back at our deadpan faces.
In the night, we lie on the floor, not next to each other, but close enough. There is no order or disorder. There needn’t be. Some things come with their own, unspecified rules.
The walls smile a little in the morning despite themselves. The gloom takes a short nap in the daytime.
When the sun goes down, behind a faraway building, we don’t bother to turn the lights on. In the blue, harsh TV screen, our faces artificially light up. Our emotions are suddenly in the limelight.
The joke’s on everyone else, as they stare back at our deadpan faces.
In the night, we lie on the floor, not next to each other, but close enough. There is no order or disorder. There needn’t be. Some things come with their own, unspecified rules.
The walls smile a little in the morning despite themselves. The gloom takes a short nap in the daytime.
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