A delicate rift is in the works
And where will we be when
We realize we’ve fallen over
The brutal drop?

Our eyes remain motionless,
Deceived, hardwired for
The next best thing

As we wrinkle and fingers
Begin to fail.

I no longer want the
Glue in my eyes,
The black and white,

The muteness of
False connection.
I’ll break through the
Stones around me and
Want for others
To do the same.