a day is a playhouse of wonders
and nights, the plunder of a thief –
with stars and a sliver of a moon,
and glimpses of an unseen Neptune
bundled up, in a napkin,
out of proportion –
the paradox of understanding is that
it’s not deserved to be understood,
its smooth transitions from a muse
into a stalemate, never available
for scrutiny or viable visibility
makes it an easy target for this tense
turpitude.
we look at each other, hold hands, caress the ticking seconds
of the clock, this story doesn’t beget a climax of any sort –
semaphorism – as they call it –
of minds and hearts and innards that wobble
with the unprecedented movements of a distorted image,
a reflection is decomposing on the wall, a self is dis-
-integrating into half-bitten morsels of truth.
be it so – let the lights extinguish themselves into shadows.
.
Linking it up with Wordle#159 at MLM Menagerie and Tuesday Platform at With Real Toads
HA's Place 