I hold nothing against me anymore.
some small failure of intuition leading me astray
somewhere
sometimes
everywhere
there is time’s empty passing.
in different hours, it is put back.
if I know only temporal,
I know nothing of mobility
I dig for you God, like treasure.
I fingernails ragged filthy
hair too flies loose wild
scratch once more again into the depth
I am so sure You are there
there’ve been too many times
too many
No more for the sideways glance
for the love of propriety telling me to come back in
society has its way.
I follow my fingers~
