The women they talk
The men they walk
Alone to one another
Little pockets of experience
I fight the system
Gazing at their every days
It is less isolating
Sun is sinking into
My skin
Stretch to reach for
Direction with drums
Broken conversation
Enormous effort
Every drop
I have to give
Is to reflect
A love I see
In every face
Ancient reflections
Upon the bare soil
Unexplained explosions
Shifting colors
Bleeding into me
©
Poétique 