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I have no patience for your fairy tales Bogus wormholes Supposed exits or invented terrors that lie beyond Plain common sense— You feel it, you insist, Some omniscient eye Haunting our humble passage. The sky expands, the trees push a deft breeze out— My skin a thin veneer Dissolving This life -- such evasive bits of twirling colored light My reason melting just enough I eat the hum of bees, the rattle of dragonfly wings The thick slice of untampered sun— The spider in its tapestry Reads the changes I lack the sense to digest— A distant voice resurrects This jagged, piecemeal world Into expedient forms— Parcels of tolerable truth Oases of salvation Sinkholes of silent hope, I trace the hard won lines Of her trusting face, The memories suffered and embraced Of love's story, Her beguiling transformations Skimming like swallows past my heart— Mere transitory scintillations Of the soft immaterial centre I cannot hold.
