Mercury encrusted stutter

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Between the seconds,
minutes and hours
times kinetic swing
slows to a
snails pace at twilight,
it is then I know
with a blind man’s
certainty that
I am fallen like
Alice, tumbling
for her fantasies
It’s deep within
my sacral
yet deeper in my soul
I tried to dust you off
smooth away your
scent but only
managed to submerge
myself further
in your essence
Have I told you
of the synchroniscities?
No, of course I haven’t.
The problem with equality
is the dispersal of power,
I’m afraid I wouldn’t
be so pretty with my
soul crushed into
fine powder blowing
in times wind
to desolate islands
of despair.
Isn’t that always
the problem when
you discover you care?
Intrigue gages the
tip toeing of my
splintered thoughts
across creaky floorboards
I am the wisp,
the wisp of chaos,
calm, energy, need and
perhaps love,
I was always afraid
you’d know what to do…
now isn’t that the truth.

Karen Hayward ©2018
Image and words

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