Love superposed,
spins on a question: Yes or no?
Shut away-

away
away
away

Pandora, child you had it easy.

Lift the lid?

No.

Better to live with love in theory
than to live with no love at all.

Here in the waiting room
it's beige and safe.
Nothing like the room
where I'll divide my trauma
into lean little cutlets.

When I can't take it anymore,
I'll watch the fish
living in the doctor's tank,
thoughtlessly ******* down
bright quivers
of lamp stripes.

I want you to see her-
but she winds, unwinds
on an old question-hook
she is pinned by it.
spins around and around.
paper-windmill - razor wire,
every rotation more freedom.
remove her for you?
no. she’d bleed-out in the knowing,
and a tortured dancer is better
than no dancer at all.

However delicate, translucent - they'll keep.
Precious lines neatly pressed, jagged inspiration rolled.
Conversation folded, folded, tucked away.
Ideas will slip to place or fall. Either way - still there.
Still there. Still there. Your words: They’ll sleep until tomorrow.

a place where:

peaks and troughs of human emotions manifest

a girl drops curiosity over a fort-ledge

a boy runs with kited-wonder, away from pinned blanket dreams

a man haunts a fading, falling edge of field

a woman breathes, just breathes