The Geometry of a Dream
In the living room where shadows and the living blur,
We sit under the same roof with what must be
And what only is.
We trample the laws of morality in silence,
For our skin remembers a more natural order:
We were one, even when we were miles apart.
Your color as a destiny, for gray is not the absence of color,
But the very presence of impossibility.
The gray of his eyes, the gray of his shirt,
A perfect fit for the Verdict I saw instantly:
There is no life for us.
It is etched in the tattoos across his arms,
A past cast in metal, heavy and deep.
We are driving fast, blurring through the curve,
Dazed and grieving, I stare at the concrete—
An irregular building, a fortress of the unreal.
The Geometry of a Dream.
Something you cannot tear down,
Yet something you can never live in.
An inanimate feeling, entrenched by the road,
Hypnotizing the collision of speed and soul.
A past that lasted only as long as a blink,
Bypassed in a fraction of a second,
Like that thin veil between waking and sleep.
Two realities, pervasive and longing,
Already miles apart,
Yet forever reaching.
It is polished but it helps me channel and express repressed energy 🙌
