Some of the originals are just fine as they are. This is one of them. So I'll just repeat it here rather than trying to rewrite it.
After the eye-drops
On the way home from the hospital
Traffic lights become technicolour suns;
Shop names dissolve into alien languages;
Faces melt into indistinguishable blurs;
The numbers vanish from my watch;
The lines vanish from my hands;
And the whole world becomes a bad photograph.
Hendiadys and sleeping in parks
9 hours ago
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