26 January 2016

belong


focal vocal, by SRM


false start, false hope, false positive:
and when I turn my head, the light seems to smear,
instead of dart, like a false path, a blurry trick of the eye.
nearsightedness betrays me:
false vision, false ideas leading the way.
I pay my bills,
I ask permission,
I open doors,
I say "thank you,"
but each is a crumb
symmetrically placed
leading nowhere.
it's a thankless job, but someone has to
love you, breathe into your mouth:
the ghost of me filling the shell of you,
my falsehood becoming your truth.


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