Description:
Sephira
it's all a color, your dreaming
miracle of lewd photographs
encircle her thoughts of beauty...
this ain't her heart, her feeling...
in all of this, in all of her wonder
i can see you, the neither/neither...
like a kiss in the closet,
your lips never part of the action...
she seems so sad, but you expell it
with a thought of future love...
but what happens when the bubble pops,
the shoe drops... where will your promises be?
the world is not a lolipop,
but a rather a bone, a cup of marrow...
the voice owns the message,
but who can bottle a voice such as this?
i am neither cryptoghrapher nor scalpel
but i see through the ribbon and diary locks...
i can see three years later, disapointment...
i can see plane rides, and nose dives
but what of the morning after?
what would you expect? a prophet? perfection?
i am a point, formless... i balance...
tearless nonchalance, i move on through the ether
(to the morning, to the after)
am i to be a point, when two are offered?
am i to balance on the wrong track?