Yes, you know who you are
(or not.)
and to open eyes is to swoon
bones break under such beauty
structure supplanted, wreckage clutters
(or not)
They said we may like it (or not)
so this 'plastic and key' must do
I'll fade from you and pilfer the prose set to song
or wrong the people set to sing
those boys all take wing and wind by in echelon
one and again they all have gone
though they set to catch
(and who can blame?)
it's no set and match
(this beauty has fame)
I wait here and whittle with words
and sing to keep from reading
your words (or not) make morsel into mound
I'll hound after sleep hitting my head till I'm deep in dreaming
trading track mid trek to stack my deck in avoiding your voise
(yes, that one right there. it's my fools call)
why do I stall? in this I pray you answer
for I fear of some cancer eating at my potential
yet it's tangential for to wait for it
(or not)
So I'll be off with my goods
and bless this beauty with my
.
.
.
absence.
