Solomon Reynaga Kincheloe

It was nothing

Behind a shadow lies your secret

You thought I️ didn’t notice?

I️ did

I️ spoke up, you pledged

So naïve of me to believe

We are no longer tied together

still I️ know

I️ stay mute

But my heart screams

Yes, I met the protagonist. The one whose life became my plot. I spill my guts to her but love every second of it Because In all ways and for some reason She cares.

There’s a deeper level to her humanity, A level that just identified me as “dynamic” in quality. I never knew I possessed this. - So, I met the protagonist, And she told me I was adequate. She catches the variation in her with a displeased flinch, But I’m Forever Altered by each of her distinctions.

The uniqueness of her in comparison to us Brings a familiarity impossible to unearth elsewhere. I knœw her. - Perhaps, I met the protagonist, And there was reason behind that chance. I’ve done my best to remain Haunted By the absolute fact That I am absolutely consumed.

Golden streams have now flown into my gaze, Precious metals thus strung by Him alone. I’d run my fingers through her glowing maze, But disapproval for me’s since been shown.

A name bestowed ‘pon the Mother herself, A name I’ve heard throughout my lonesome life. Yet newness in which I’ve begun to delve Has brought fascination beside my strife.

If I were to lay it all on the line, If she were to tolerate such great flaws, Would “those who provide” take this heart of mine? Would there be set up against me great laws?

Relapsed and unclean, An addict of something yet to be had. How could I call myself “true to form?” I am a slave to logic and emotion.

Have you ever felt the passion of sensibility? I crave to behave under the influence of rationale. Truth is spoken through critical thinking, But it’s not realistic to think critically with her.

Have you ever known the reasoning of sentiment? Nothing more powerful has ever taken hold. Pulsating from everywhere and nowhere is the frenzy. She’s made me unbalanced with the unthinking thought.

The strands of gold that hang from her head Fall into nooses I’d be honored to die on. The irises of sky and sea examine me always. She’s chosen me worthy to lose my way in them.