I hold nothing against me anymore.
some small failure of intuition leading me astray
there is time’s empty passing.
in different hours, it is put back.
if I know only temporal,
I know nothing of mobility
I dig for you God, like treasure.
I fingernails ragged filthy
hair too flies loose wild
scratch once more again into the depth
I am so sure You are there
there’ve been too many times
No more for the sideways glance
for the love of propriety telling me to come back in
society has its way.
I follow my fingers~