Clandestine Lunacy/Vulnerability

Memoirs of all things

forgotten

As expectation meet

in worn and solemn

eyes

 

The cosmos finds us,

looking over

turned back, shoulders

 

All the different things

feel the same

Each one less of

a shadow than what it

once was

 

The feelings kept their depth

sufferable

And in beauty

Beneath that lime

lamp shade

 

Repeating these

sublime realities

Explicitly now

Our expectations

meet

 

Neither ashed, nor told

The soul’s door is ajar

For those who seek inadequacy

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s