• Vol. 08
  • Chapter 02
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Keep It Under Your Hat

If I don’t look with lights on,
beneath the black and white of It,
ideas stir.
If I turn away at windows,
dismiss the wrong and right of It,
visions form.
If I sidestep puddles
—ignore the fight flight bite—
out of sight of It,
dreams emerge.
When it’s time,
they’ll rainbow.