red tulips

An alpine lake big enough to sink my teeth into

Debilitating being by way of delusion

Typical of a bank of imitations in memoriam

 Reverberate pulses that do not clearly identify themselves

Won’t behave no matter how I beg

Stirring

Like it also wanders aimlessly

Searching for the makings of conduct  

Time by range

Space by silence

Instead they are letters rearranged

Of an ancient idea

But even the colors are shifting based on the perspective

From which you glance

The angle, the beam, the thing, the curve, the light

If distance retains beauty, purity

Why is longing so dire

Is loneliness worse the closer it is

Aches for a space that existed

Only above the tree line

Without comfort or overcoming empowerment

Instead it arrived with a bit of established hardness

Containers of shell, armor, callous

A barricade, brick by brick

Each representative of another tile

Another devastation

And now they’re covered in vines

A floral scent

In roots

Eventually to decompose, return

I shake them out

It abides, and matches, and mimics the dimming

 The scythe will try to remove the incipient adherences to those limbs

Which cling to the core

 But the new blooms petition for water

Breathe, atmosphere of smog

Commitment that does not equal constraint

I do wish the arc was less pronounced

Story exhausted by living