cycling through this world

vascilating between mountain range

and the gutter’s stench

atrophyed light becomes holiness

in the sunrise’s moody gaze..

choosing the inimical lows

of today

we breathe yesterdays in

breath by breath

praying for the

sparks we knew were real…

instead of a more radiant 

milieu

our reverse motions

let discourse and malfunction

in through barracaded doors

adding chaos to the

disruptive calm

of any day

called ‘today’