They colour in dabs
that spark the streaks
long and drawn
about how this and that

don't correspond.

And out of place
to save some face
within their own space
they end and get back to the point...

back onto the same page.

But everyone's to tell
what words to those who are heard
and never to be
fall friverously on vincibility.

They seem to see...

that the sun paints me
tangerine
and tangents are all
that's ever been.