we are all pushed along by books, dragged by boxes

counted by other peoples numbers, silenced by a roller

coaster, driven by the vision of the other and how bout
the mask that only seems to cover half the face these days.

most i's are in capitals yet this eye turns lines and graphs

into curves of water that drip fluidly into the place where
your most cherished dreams live. it's love in shades of blue.

it's life that equates meaning. it's an x with kisses and a y can't

we all just stop for a minute. it's clusters of memory that knead
us into recognition of self and plead with you to come

to your senses. cherish the colour of the sky. a loss of visible

markers, the blurs always make new scuffs into the streaming
voice of your body. dripping with sensibility are the hands shaken

recording the unknown possibility of our destiny. clouds of ideas

hang on the line. they haven't been washed in a while, they're just
airing. a man falls from the sky and shoots an arrow into the world.

they don't navigate anymore, these arrows are the coordinates

for how we measure our life. they form stairways that lead into
a supermarket where we buy our daily needs. remote control

us. scratch raw figures. create formulas that socially collide,

making form blush with embarrassment, stretching for numbers.