The Prize

The Prize - tree with leaf

My mind would’ve seen you if my eyes were blind;
the snatches of lipped smile and shouting breasts
arresting me to the sexual swatting of fly
and the ill-confident prayer for a mounting music
where You and I compose the life and crowd

Introduce rituals expected and enacted
Exhibition saddles the safe of inhibition
so that I’m visiting within you and you in me
Discoveries in sweaty adult worded nothings
granted respect by fleshy objects with strings

The feeling floats that we’re bugs on blissing bloom
and so committed are we to the glowing oneself
that we’re lending hearts without I.O.U.s
Who knows or cares whose is whose
when purpose is abandoned for the dream-awake?

Laughter twists in the fatalism of dishonesty
I say objects are objects, you ask what’s in between
We’ve forgotten our bodies to fuck with our minds
so that solutions play hide-and-seek and love is intrusive
Should we have known that happiness obsesses holes?

This new mind order breeds discomfort and interest
Am I a leaf on a tree or a tree with leaf?

Unanswered, ignorance is a shield and I the common Man
but asking travels the way of echoes of echoes
until I accept that redemption and victim live hand in hand

This is Alone.