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Crossing the street Blindfolded Hold my hand From where you came To where you are going Hours demand A fallen sacrifice Lightning Seeks Your attention Don't mention it We begin again To make amends And mend our linens Before we wash them In public spaces Shadows remove Their spectacles And let's be honest With ourselves Or at least Aspire to be sincere It appears that Our mutual feelings Are in arrears These days As leap years burn Your holy garments Old shirts are torn From the holes Within our firmaments Young brides must tackle Insubstantial problems Like how many   Triangles are born From uniting two Hollow spheres Yet to solve them Must forever remain Closer to impossible
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Mar 8, 2019
Mar 8, 2019 at 1:10 PM UTC
impossible probables
Crossing the street Blindfolded Hold my hand From where you came To where you are going Hours demand A fallen sacrifice Lightning Seeks Your attention Don't mention it We begin again To make amends And mend our linens Before we wash them In public spaces Shadows remove Their spectacles And let's be honest With ourselves Or at least Aspire to be sincere It appears that Our mutual feelings Are in arrears These days As leap years burn Your holy garments Old shirts are torn From the holes Within our firmaments Young brides must tackle Insubstantial problems Like how many   Triangles are born From uniting two Hollow spheres Yet to solve them Must forever remain Closer to impossible
ganesha-michael-shapiro
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Mar 8, 2019
Mar 8, 2019 at 1:10 PM UTC
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