stumbling towards blocks in a road that twists through backroads in a boarder-less country
i turned around
nothing left to be found
on virgin paths leading underground
i chose the high road of memories
pieces of me examined through distant eyes without the flash of a coming surprise i could supply my supple ego and charm with enough calm to disarm relics causing alarm
peace
solitude found in replayed imaginations
comfort in connecting to the past
let me sit, loaf, and find the place where it all begin
a spectator to my own birth
squeezing through mush-hole-muddy mounds where burial dances softened an awakening ground
for the next round
where i’ll be found
distracting myself with where i’m bound
a mere reflection
in everyone’s crown