Prose doesn't know


Prose just doesn't know the right words

to unfurl red carpets and long lines of people, places, thoughts

moments of untouched joy

sitting, eating, speaking, loving

sifting pleasure through pain


Moments showcase memories

buds of smiles flowering of faces, traces

of waterfalls tumbling ever over another day

waters of doing

waters of being

oceans of smaller drops


Prose just doesn't know the right song

the throngs of melodies

unheard but for the silent ear




I sequential: essential


Yesterday the walls fell in

tumbled plaster on my dinner table

I mated with fear

loved the evil whore

purhased her black tears of joy with my sanity

naked pity that fills no desire, no need



Until the sun shone on the other side of the world

the world

I curl up in its warm lap

and I am here



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