VI. BY WHITE PRISM
Pushed and pulled by truth to astray
Fabricating endless shells of reflection with
Hanging white laces – soothing traces -
The name seeking replicas of communal fading
In their sole prism by secret seduction
Diminished each moment in yesterday’s waiting
Yet who dreams otherwise of hinterland gifts
And asylum ribbons surely surprises themselves; myself
Wondrous in sudden treason that’s momentarily forgotten
Growth led me to share and subside,
Our spears meeting together for those
Blossoming prisms serene but stuck inside.
And stayed subdued, for they’re growing
As they always have before; watch -
The clock has entered uninvited, shrinking
Only by fixated screams of bliss,
Each chime another white, Winter finger gripping
A late, mystical carriage amidst all of this,
Equally inconspicuous as one hopes for minute
Inner glimpses in the age of a mirror,
The frost crept in through all pictures to the
Third Eye and remains crystallized
But here - a prior seed planted - the chemical
Multiples seem to fall just as aligned
While the company of mine surround so little
Involuntarily; unknowingly – that this
Treacherous, sparkling magic within our soil
Would embody the childhood question
But neither white, shapeless grave nor I
Will ever come to love a void lesson
