Sometimes I'm over and often inside
My crying jail
Like two spiritual hands
Encompassing a corporate body,
Both belonging
To that irreversible sadness.
An inflexible realness
Forces my eyes
To speak
Against that malignant silence,
Situated upon your lower lip.
Moreover, it forces my bloodcurdling
Inner scream to be
An outer space song,
When it's pushed through fractured teeth
Into a totally weird reality
Like a shadow of
An incomprehensible dream
With inlaid hopes.
This reality is slipping out,
When I awake alone
To nurture my love
In my painful freedom.