Concrete eyes, disguised rain, cheery & laughing,
a lilting voice.
So much to dying, its intricacies, sound is damaged.
Make a future, raise a child, love one with fever.
I was naïve, I thought more of souls, so much we do to
deny self.
In moving motion, locomotive waves, abstract
forgiveness—to insist upon skies.
I see it clearly. I meditated it. I was in a trance by
it. I held my ideals.
I’ve reason to believe—in a deep secret, to imagine
how much Love is adored.
Sat in class, noticed, for no good reason: I faint to
imagine what was said.
Concrete arms, asphalt legs, to know what we see.
