Wrinkles all over
the back of your neck;
the mark of a soldier
of an underwater shipwreck.
Forgotten, forlorn;
your intricate eyes
morph into two stones
of great size.
To wander alone,
to wander without
the walls of the home—
the closed mouth.
An ebony gaze
submits you to where?
Amid the white haze
a very bright flare.
What is the matter
with not wanting to
wander alone
like I ought to?
When lightnings and thunders
lose their flair;
when vagabond monsters
settle somewhere.
The blossoms astounding
multiply sevenfold
and your understanding—
your mind will unfold
Into the fray
or rather without it;
in seizing the day
we wander without it.
