Coming toward the part of the room you haven’t seen
Yet
While there’s seeing left to do
In all rooms
You find yourself
In
Touching the corners
Scanning overhead
Looking through the window
At them
Hillside houses with other beating hearts
I wonder
Funny how we all sit in here
Oblivious to whats happening around us
People in squares
With enough space
Barely
To breath in rooms
Some larger than others
Some never used
Some with dust playing music
Collecting others
Dust
On the ceiling
Blowing toward the hallway
Around the corner
Below the edge of a wall
Where the color is fading
What color
Hazy Acres: The Creative Practice of Ryan Boos 
Your Thoughts