the only mold left
to find a place within,
is that of a man
on bended knees
with eyes unfocussed
upon the subject he never saw
or sees
or ever will,
yet this casting stares
into the abyss of
pure experience.
knowing his attempts
are futile,
fleeting and pointless.
however
haha however,
i chose to fall on
my bruised knees,
and sink into something
more real than the mold
of the cross or the dove
will ever give me.
my pointless poses
are better,
and more guiltless,
than the fake
ones
let the plaster harden
upon all of my
failed attempts.
No comments:
Post a Comment