…I wonder. Why tell me such glorious, words with no denotation
Behind them? Do you think I merely listen
to evoke myself in such….
You have mistaken. You call such things out to me,
And set them upon my table for me to examine. Your obscure view is
Clouded by our fingerprints we forgot to wipe away. I’ve let it fool me,
And tomorrow I’ll do it again. I’m rejoicing to a false comfort. For now…
You’re a blind eye talking to a naked hand.