drama that is not

left behind,
it’s everywhere.
on floors, on pavements, on air.

running bones, getting home,
exhausting the ghosts on every wall.

it’s nothing but a sunrise—

rays of light are membranes in my brain.
gasping the sparkles of the invisible,
i gain more!

stay, i recline on a legend’s asylum,
almost surrendering, now surrendered.

soul begets soul, i guess.


About chester maynes

poet, and a lover of music and books.
This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

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