Tuesday, March 15, 2011

[Thanks to coincidental perspective laced epiphanies]

My eyes cant believe what they’re seeing;
Dreams of you receding,
Like waves
In a shallow bowl of water
There comes a tug.

With me in it,
And looking out through the glass,
And from within its bounds;

I swim as i walk,
I pace back.
And forth,
and back.

[No one talks]

And as the levels drop
The last few level thoughts,
Writhe
As the few last bubbles
Float up, from the bottom
They burst, up top.

And In certain angles,
As i lay on the ground
In this bowl that is life,
The that that is me
Shoots a quick glance back.

My eyes cant believe what they’re seeing;
Dreams of you receding
Like waves
In a shallow bowl of water
Getting drained.

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