The Hints of Sweat still Permeate
the odor of the room

Some Things that Come just never leave
The Room becomes their tomb.

To see something so clearly that you taste it,
&
then it’s gone…
a distant memory…
a yellowed photograph.

So apparently I have been losing my mind.
Cycles, circles, energies and flows…..
Every day I awake, and know not where I go.

Rah

When the light
hits my eye
I’m struck, knocked back
as I wonder why

Looking for a purpose
all I find is reason

Looking for a structure
Hung High, by the neck,
they call it treason.

Whatever.

If the Sweet Tastes of that which I cannot see,
Are really just figments of my imagination mocking me,

Then I don’t know
what time is really worth,

And I do not know,
What mind is really worse.