Where do we stand
when the ground beneath
fails to convey us?
–
Without filter
your exotic eyes burn
into my soul’s ellipses.
Two-cornered and primitive
I rage against the rictus
of my own mispronounced smile.
–
That I possessed your longanimity
I might recover, steady and triumphant
but beneath the clock’s beguiling noise
I fold myself into fetal crescents.
–
The jailer within me cringes
with afflatus, emeralds brace themselves
and are born into a swarm of pasty stars.
–
I back away slowly from the ledge
invisible and momentous
I take your hands among others
and begin the long journey home.
mindlovemisery 