In the midst of the mist
There are fuzzy felt shapes
Juicy green carpets
Battleship landscapes
Each watery wave
Distorts anew
My petrol coloured
Point of view
Gossamer tripwires
Spun through the night
Collecting the damp
In the half daylight
I see no blue
It appears to be shy
Has no place
In a negative sky
A developing picture
A perspective shift
Colours, like flowers
Will bloom should it shift
Each of the senses
Seem not to exist
They're missed in the fog
And lost in the mist...
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