the difference confronts. paper knives give chase and narrow margins run. portions. the cruel serendipity of coincidence. and fear. the simple math of skin and meat. we either add or subtract. everything else is just irony.
there are curves. there are angles. skin like picture books. lips like fairy tales.
there are places. there are exits. the road surrenders. the distance forgives.
the road is closed, but the detours are infinite.
the bridges open. the world pauses. it's easy to forget how quickly it will resume.
there is no map. just the lines we draw in the dirt. and the habits we collect. the delerious treasures of ghosts and orphans.
we might be lost. we might be found. it all depends on whom you ask.
Sunday
6/28/2015 11:30:00 PM
| Life Poems |