Our truths exists somewhere in between.
Between the end and the beginning,
Beginning to look like an end.

It hounds and heals like a first love,
Love sick and quiet haunting ghosts.
Ghosts of truths we do not see.

It spreads like the universe,
Universe of mason jars
Jars preserve our errors.

Meeting the simple truth,
Truth on that first date night,
Night divides the check.

Now that we have faced,
Faced the truth in all,
All has been revealed.

There's no great truths.
Truths exist here,
Here is our time.

They're closer,
Closer than,
Than they seem.

---

This is a non-entry LOOP poem in support of the Poetry Slam Challenge.

Photos are original work processed via app.

Thank you for spending time here.

Other Works:
Gone
Daughter of New York
Binary
Three Nights in Charlotte
Starchild
Melt

Poetry Slam Challenge #4