52

I'm gazing afar,
past the eubstance of my kens
through the thatch that hinders my sense
and my sight; forcing imaginations aback
with every whispers of "Stay put-- abide.
Stay caved and reside."

Well, fuck that.

Body numbed by beads of life
and of existence itself.

I'm gazing afar past these concrete walls
and the luscious pages of the night.

Utter consciousness swans to a point--
to a realization that
Nox has been clinching my being so amorously all along.

So I gaze further to the stillness of this peaceful sobriety,
past the sounds of silence
polluted by spheres of commotion,
towards the generous sky--
so handsome and gallant;
coveting the hopefuls with flickering gems and
a homely lantern.

"Quel kaima, little girl."

At rest I will, if you'd convey me home
into nothingness.

Quel kaima, despite the bruises.