Passing through

This life and all it's questions...

The in-between is a warm night spent on the edge of a knife.
Inside- a tempest, a creator of dreams, a magician.

Liberation of the mind it seems

is the chaos and the freedom we seek.

Oh to be weak, as damaged cargo passing through customs.

Like the first arrow we ever let fly.
Hopeful with intention.

A vortex picking up memories along the way.

Each layered day
a sheltering sky of madness and hope flowing

.

Our hearts in tow,
to a distant lover we go.

We are irreversible in our own existence.

Born and broken-

You can breathe life into each small moment to find the temporality.
Only to find the air sucked out before any
continuity can arise.

Profit earned, lessons burned
Value adorned, illusion scorned.

Let the past regret what the future forgets.