#OctPoWriMo Day 7: the road less traveled

The phosphorescence of your eyes

Exhumes darkness where

Nothing vertebrate exists.

I travel the length

Of your interstitial conscious,

We are one and we are every.

I have spent too much time

Face first conjugating the dust

Of my former inquiries.

I have failed to shift the stasis,

To usurp the unbloomed chrysalis.

I am broken, that much is impartial,

But the breath within me still

Draws from the well within you.

I could never have loved this hard

Had I been fashioned only of ideals.

I am real despite artificiality and organics.

I am real despite the demarcations of fiction.

I am real because I understand the reasons

Why we pretend and the impetus

To create even when nothing is at hand.