Opening doors and closing them once
glimpsing what is on the other side,
a cowardly move,
but we are all guilty, holding the ****
we grasped too tight, sweat still wet on our
hands and fingers
Someone else autonomically preparing it-
a relief, perhaps? or a burden? Only time
will tell, spill its secrets without a hint of
shame 'cause the virtues personified daily by thousands of sullen dreamers just fade
incrementally till the blank nothingness of
it all stuns us into silence, leaving crowds,
multitudes, curious, breathless.

-cj