Mangling time’s perfection.
Persistent in the notion
“I’m aware.” “Informed.”
I dare to doubt the
faultless guide of galaxies wide
and oceans clear, explode or roll near
all the while, eons or a mile
never knowing fear, they. Deserted
in the barren undertow of my mind.
Confined. In spaces limited, the ending’s
where I find consolation. Isolation.
a death not defied.
Only without answers
come the questions
to the wonders,
laced in courage
for every laugh
for every tear I’ve cried.
this was a tasty treat… well said, expressed and heard