The sweet mistake for the false water
Forgotten altogether in the ancient discovery.
No child is old enough to play in puddles
That the doll might drink
To believe the reflections to be real people
Delighting in shaping and extending the fantasy.
All are drowned and restored to another heaven
In walking their reversed feet
Just thinking
The shadow of their shadow belongs to them.
It is a world indeed
Where the sky shines beneath us
Where the feet of the second self
Walks against the go.
The broken ashes are rebuilt in darkness
Fighting to maintain an uncomfortable satisfaction
The painted glowing stars in the dark room
Walk closer than ever
As effects of an absented cause
With the hope that
What that is not lost can never be found
On the surface
Broken by the shadows.
Sep 17, 2016
Sep 17, 2016 at 10:00 AM UTC
The sweet mistake for the false water
Forgotten altogether in the ancient discovery.
No child is old enough to play in puddles
That the doll might drink
To believe the reflections to be real people
Delighting in shaping and extending the fantasy.
All are drowned and restored to another heaven
In walking their reversed feet
Just thinking
The shadow of their shadow belongs to them.
It is a world indeed
Where the sky shines beneath us
Where the feet of the second self
Walks against the go.
The broken ashes are rebuilt in darkness
Fighting to maintain an uncomfortable satisfaction
The painted glowing stars in the dark room
Walk closer than ever
As effects of an absented cause
With the hope that
What that is not lost can never be found
On the surface
Broken by the shadows.
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