you told me that in order
for my confidence to resurface
back to the image of my dreams,
I have to carve my principles
on the surface of my palms
where l believe that I can thrive/
passionate as a willow dancing on air
the way its branches would bend
like a finger snapping
to feel the warmth of that concave part
in a human hand,
when it caresses the soil
just to cherish where it came from/
now strength dwells
where influence employs;
deep-rooted —
from the lines in my palms
echoing your voice.
—MLD 01012022
YOU ARE READING
Artifice
PoetryMy question marks were never caged but they always find ways to conceal their images and trick the pachydermatous spectator with artifice. Maybe, certainty can be Socrates listening to the mixtape in my closet? Maybe uncertainty can be me withou...
