It’s hard to know
what’s right, what’s wrong;
I am just alone
and nothing seems to fit
as it should. It is as if
this world is a frame
for another picture. It is
as if there are lovely jewels
in a ring that are set…just…
off; they play against each other
incorrectly, emerald against
pearl, square ruby wedged
against opal with no fire.
Try as you might
this picture doesn’t frame
and you dig your fingers
into your cheeks, close
your eyes; scream very quietly
as if you could allow this
to take over your sensibility; but
outrage doesn’t work
and you settle for dullness,
for a dampening of all your
drenched senses.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tomorrow, the release of the new book.
Tomorrow, as well, a change in the policies of this page. (Ooooh…scary.)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

onward,
T