the words we use use us but
who listens to one’s own voice
it is the ubiquitous background
the foreground to the lost truth
there is no ground no fulcrum
to pitch the argument away
the curve turns all back to one
as if what anyone says matters
when all matters as much as one
the horizon flattens the earth’s curve
to a singular eye oblivious to all
except itself in relation to itself
I look into the mirror only to see
You a construct I don’t understand
(August 12, 2017)
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