How much of my day is delusion?
From moment to moment blurs
between stock mutters brandished
like shields softly rattling before
the onslaught of tangential dreams
as I walk through the halls alone.
Each step, each side conversation,
ripples like bells on distant hills
calling and calling for some other
to flow down the valley in streams,
until I drown in possibilities’
endless pulse and thrust.
As a glass resonates on the verge
of shattering, I can feel the first
harmonic trembles flutter along
the edges of my skin. My voice
breaks in waves, then vanishes
into the howling maelstrom.
(December 16, 2015)
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