that concave
that concave moment
where dark becomes light. a simple shimmering light
pulled in silent direction
from front to back
and the whites of your eyes become vapor
a placid look upon myself
in every which direction
that I can't figure out
and I'm dense with every little piece of me
an emotion drawn
between two smiling faces
and a third
where the emptiness should reside
but has moved on, to another field
in some other town
and I'm simply, simple.
in the basic sense
where every powered and controlled movement you make
becomes another reason