Future no longer involves you,
caught as you are
on the outside
of this hermetically sealed vessel.
Insert yourself at our peril.
Naught to do but witness
through a wavy-glass flask
a slip of clay being moistened.
Heart pours forth its ferment
which long tendril arms knead.
Yielding mass, inchoate, answers
to velvet night's ripening moon.
YOU ARE READING
Express, baggage and all...
PoetryObjects in the mirror are closer than they appear... Just when you think you've put something behind you for good, you look back and find it trails you like your very own comet's tail, lighting a path through the dark. Reading through these pages...
