the attic was empty until i filled the jars.
the bright lights flashing and contained, until i set them free.
i could never keep them caged.
the fireflies that i chased in circles.
happy to land on my palm until i closed my hand.
the attic became dark and dusty.
the light had passed, as did summer.
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...a fearless account of all things nonsense, surreal, imaginary, or maybe just my contorted perception of reality...
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