"Always be a poet, even in prose."
-Charles Baudelaire
Succinct Finger words attempt to grasp the shape
or solidify some things that matters
enough to cast shadows.
Withheld itself Where we have both eyes
and this simultaneous process of thingness,
the space it takes when ones eyes are closed
or looking too long at any thing,
turns to creamains, a small pile, still smolders.
In rote repose Mind over matter is when matter takes hold
of our mind and an argument ensues,
this circular discourse becomes a deep rut,
here we go again, making a smile with left overs.
Umbra The darkest parts, those chunky photons assembled
from all particulars and are open to letting the light
expending the conservation in equal distribution
of temperature into background
Where loss of certainty as love and mild.
Makes one move around Musical chairs taught us how to listen
while in a hurry to save ourselves and
change our point of view without preference
for any place other than staying in the game.
Look Listen.
Within Many layers of glass make mirrors.
Painting By Paul Fischer [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
