rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,

Approaching Ennui

The summer, passing, draws me deeper into it's languor. Day itself is turgid with heat. All I want to do is listen to Duke Ellington's solo piano ballads and read Mallarme.

Soon will come nights when lightning will flash in the mountains to the north, with no sound of thunder. The heavy air will muffle even nearby sounds, and I will doze undisturbed beneath an indigo sky, watching the milky way unfurl.

Let days diminish. Summer nights provide as much light as I need.
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