Flutes play the sound of no absolutes
imperfections captivate my mysteries anew
discovering each year discovering a new you
pinpointing it with accuracy
aloof....
filled with mistakes
Accepting the contradictions
hypocrisy instilled
meditating how wrong I can be
concentrating on the middle
ideals mixed into separation
connected with my mental compass
transform time and space with thoughts
as a subtle work of art
entering the stairway is like looking back
unaware of your progress
also
laughing at our spilled marbles