solitary sundays

evening light pours
through prisms
burning rainbows
upon offwhite walls

cats laze in splotches
of lateday sun
as I burn noodles:
failed domesticity.

songs steeped strong
in childhood drift to
my memoryplace. sun-
shine on my shoulders,

rocky mountain highs
and annie’s songs fill
up my senses, coax
salted water rimward.

twentyplus years to
realize how easily the
sun’s rays had silently
infiltrated every pore,

leaving traces lodged
deeper than the sun-
soaked skin that peeled
deceptively from the rest.

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