The Endless Shutters Closing

The flashbulbs.
The endless shutters closing.
The impenetrable
series of intrusions,
closing in.
The migration
from small town,
into the city.
The rainfall falling.
Pitta patta, pitta patta.
Closing windows
to keep out the rain.
Drying wet hair
with a towel.
Smelling sweet fragrant
otherness in the air.
Flashbulbs and endless
shutters closing.


4 responses to “The Endless Shutters Closing

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