It twinkles, despite it being too dark, light filtering through dust that is only seen
because it hangs suspended in the rays of the faded bulb only a few feet away,
it shines as it slowly trails between coarse hairs and reddish-brown scarred skin that refuses to turn white like its brothers and sisters.
what is left behind is muted, and staining
so those who come across it will know where it originated.
dry stickiness causes the suspended dust to be caught, the colors darkening with the gradual light, the residual color slipping through the folds of fingers that sway in and out of the light, before slapping down onto white linoleum that is bordered with hunter green, staining its surface a brighter color, the light dancing off
the patterns created in the gravitational swing, back and forth, slapping, staining,
a slight shift sends a wave over the edge, cleaning the stains that escaped backwards, rushing down to the linoleum before smacking into stains, interrupting the light by fracturing its perspective, and now it’s even brighter, shimmering on the coat that swirls with a new color, prettier as it moves fluidly,
before being pulled into the center of the room.
Rushing sounds echo in the small space,
dyed water rushing over valleys with a heated sigh,
before stilling again.
Soft light filters through the dust suspended in the unmoving air