I’ll be flying smoke screens on Venus's ******.

At the drop of the letter orange
an orangutans purse strings pulls at my wallet.

A corpse's spindle finger pointing me in a direction…

Trees bending shadows to blind the day.

A wind whispering to me in a human tone.

A madness telling me to leave it alone.

I’m so at home it’s unknown
and overly underwhelmed.

I’m grabbing at the helm,
but it was holding me afloat.

I pushed down so hard
by the time I pulled back
it broke under the pressure
of not understanding how to cope.

A final rope cutting me.

A blackened fuel from a golf swing
placing my humanity upon the desert’s green.

I could believe anything
if I will accept my own lies...

A twisted frame from a mangled mind.

It’s only just polished time
that gave us away...

A reflection show portraying all others
in directions we now sometimes go.

A final stroll down a scars
burrowed walkway
leading me back towards
the one remaining vertebrate…

An amphibian brain
in a leader of men.

I didn't even point it out,
all over again.