Tropic

 

This is the surprise inside.

Your fabricated alibi.

This is the request you wrote.

The words that stuck in your throat.

The things you just wanted to say

at the last high class soiree.

Things you would and things you won’t.

Things that you would do, but don’t.

These are the subconscious thoughts

that you had thought were lost.

These are your fervent prayers

whispered when no one  is there.

These are all your analogs

that you made to replace God.

These are all your memories

and you’ll never be escaping these.

This is hate.

This is love.

This is guidance from above.

This is hope and this is fear,

you’ll find it all for sale, here.

This is wood,

and this is clay,

blown into disarray.

These are words

and these are songs,

everything and nothing wrong.

This is body, this is breath.

This is life and it is death.

 

  

HG – 2022

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