Q u i d a m

Pitfalls

Thoughts are another juxtaposition box—

Light peeps in smoke holes,

Wind bares the trees,

You make a hunch punch, when sad horn flares—

"I came from a cloud gust," heard the saline music?

I laughed at white dust, perhaps little lies never hurt.

*

The city dissolves in sand strains,

Hoping to fit well—

We crawl with foot, hand: bleeding slowly in mountain rocks—

In the desert of happy sides, our shadow revolve in blue skies

"Madeline, are you happy?" No, desert of sand but city walls—

Yet light turns his head, silent bob strikes twice.

*

Human voices gravely come,

Down the alley, drink their fill,

One by one, daisies burn—

In the evening, lights whispers: look at the horned wings,

Tumbling through darkness, breaks the cobweb,

Clings to the edge, spider falls in trap.

— 3rd August, 2023