The elves are near

Here is a man on mission unclear

combined with the window

he looks through the rain

and stationary places pass through his mind

and thrashing displacement finds its way out the woodwork

The elves are near

is the feeling.

A bit of humor

and a laugh

at the fear of it running out

I'm in a vacuum sinking through my cushions

skidding dark matters to the moon

To make matters worse is silly

The bottles always empty

and we were always enough