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