I think who is coming
No one, there are no echoes
I encounter a color
But don’t know what it is
It’s not a colour I have ever seen
Nor has anyone
It is a new colour just born
A colour that tempers shameless chaos
Tears the preferred darkness of blame deep inside
That denies the chance of I am
No one is here there are no echoes no sounds
A white spider smiles in incongruous chorus
A valley of its heart burning in choking congress
While it walks on its hands leaving footprints of burning rainbows embedded in the clay
I am not where I think.....therefore I think where I am not...