It lies blank before my eyes.
And then I see a shade of green.
Quite like the colour of rot, absolute decay.
Then it turns blue, like the veins peeping through my skin.
And in a minute it is red.
Dark and patchy, patterns of blotched blood.
Iridescent now, psychedelically spread.
Then again it turns blank.
Is it there? I no not.
What is real? I no not.
The colours or the page.
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