Poem #21: Inflection


The void is compact within a balloon; it could pop and be out of my hands any time.
The trees hold up the sky so it does not fall.
Take a brick and put it in the wall.
Is reality here or did you put it in the closet again?
Something knocked on the door: I am not home.
She is still standing and I am rolling on the stormy sea.
Somebody will you help me!
Ceaselessly the waves cascade.
She is still standing and I am wandering in the woods.
Somebody will you find me!
Glimmering her eyes, the colour of these summer leaves.
She is still standing and I haven’t a clue of where my shoes went.
Wither the wind blows—hither I hear her footsteps play soft upon the ground.
Refine the diamond all you want—it will never shimmer as radiantly as she.
Why buy a spirit at the store when you already have one?
They do not even sell any.
Take a picture.
Remember how to remember.
A time better than this one.
Forget forgetful things; best leave them forgotten for now.
The void becomes stamps null.
A happy balloon for her.
Someone knocked on the door: she is home and so am I.

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