(posting under yesterday's date)

you stare and
a car passes by.

there are
a hundred worlds beneath your feet and
they keep you standing but not quite
rooted to the ground

confused, like a needle
on a compass

this is what you know;
that is what you want to believe

they run, side by

what hugs you close is
a hundred years of snaking ivy;

it is
what you must remember
what you want to forget.

and you stare until
your favorite pastime has become
the imaginary destruction
of flowers.

(prompt taken from RWP)

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in the wake of light, your words bring me more(please, do leave your fingerprints behind, so I may relish the image of our hands after you go.)