Tuesday, October 18, 2011

All the While -- Poetry 2011

Maybe it was me

who was imaginary.

Not quite touching down

heel to toe on solid surfaces.

Not quite seeing past rainbows

tethered with filigree filament.

Floating in a vaporous bubble

never really conscious;

memorized script replaying,

never leaving static dreams.

all the while over under-optimistic…

then I realized I was somebody.


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