POEM: A MATTER OF STREAKING
Words pass on
Like wind on the teeth
Of a skeletal dream
That never left sleep
The lever slipped down
Lowering the crown
Less potent than fables
Of a vacant town
You say my story
Drowns in the truth
Soaking in reality
And you have the proof
Your way isn't mine
I prefer grit
It graces my soul
I'd rather not omit
Then when the gust
Enters my mouth
I define my dynamic
And my kingdom abounds
The time you toss
comes back with a crack
an icy frost
from a lack of friction
The time you caress
is more and stores
a glow to dim
contradiction
The adventure is yours
and who you are
becomes a matter of
streaking
But I'd rather say
knowing who you are matters
or giving space
to come to being
Is the bulls-eye center
the mage and mentor
of your bell boned
inner meaning
And the day stage
flips a lidded page
as newness wets
the evening
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