I was given a
hunch, better an epiphany;
trekking miles in mind, sorting
through
silt, to find treasure, diamonds,
ink;
I was given a
hunch, better an epiphany.
I’ve never known
normality, as complete,
located in the
nexus, of a given society;
souls with
closure, swayed by each other,
complying, acting
in accordance—to sunshine,
rain and dance.
usually, the
columns are elitist. we can’t help
it: academicians,
career people, family
orientated;
secrets, as intensity, held to heart,
sullen and vexed: “I
need you; I love you.”
silliness to
believe otherwise. the soul is
complex—it’s able,
as to participate, in
many directions—for
different, inalienable
reasons.
I was given a
hunch. I walked its design. I
am riding its
pendulum—the ikigai of art,
the pain of the
swimmer, the ache of the muscle,
sewn into flesh,
bothersome to most, unable
to break free,
damned, if it’s discussed.
