plazma
Bluelighter
Betwixt and between
Our threads weaving
This breathing world
Clothing ourselves
In the endless and
Countless possibilities
From which we spring
Strangely focused
Driven to distraction
By experiential lust
Never satiated but
Seemingly amazed
By shallow truths
Or ever deeper lies
Yet here we are
Floating on the surface
Now understanding
Is a train for me
Arriving later still
But always coming
In a whiff of disquiet
To which we turn
Grasping dirtily
Smearing the crystal
Fingerprinted lenses
In which the world
Can see our faces
While our hearts
Always remain
Concealed softly
Beneath the bed
Of natural distrust
From which one day
The garden of our bones
Will sprout and grow
-plaz-
Our threads weaving
This breathing world
Clothing ourselves
In the endless and
Countless possibilities
From which we spring
Strangely focused
Driven to distraction
By experiential lust
Never satiated but
Seemingly amazed
By shallow truths
Or ever deeper lies
Yet here we are
Floating on the surface
Now understanding
Is a train for me
Arriving later still
But always coming
In a whiff of disquiet
To which we turn
Grasping dirtily
Smearing the crystal
Fingerprinted lenses
In which the world
Can see our faces
While our hearts
Always remain
Concealed softly
Beneath the bed
Of natural distrust
From which one day
The garden of our bones
Will sprout and grow
-plaz-
