Leftovers On Broken China

 


There was an ambiguous inference
clinging to my afterthoughts
and rolling up stream .
The propulsion was forceful
un natural, fabricated
as if it were implanted
against all will.
The weight of 'perhaps' lurked listlessly
in the hollow spaces of my time.
This time being of intermittent frequencies
intercepted at any given moment.
My yesterday's leftovers sit beautifully
on broken china.
Tomorrow hangs precariously through confusion
placed wrongly but clever.
Our cauldron hangs heavy with doubtful brew
my heart feels like hot tyres reaching thin ice.
Realisation quells the punch ,laden
with poisons that penetrate I with your soul
which ejects me far past any paradise
and back down to earth
with your ever real and heaviest presence
I am now suspended in all the equivocations
of self unsurety.
Tune in to the descent of our parallel frequencies
I've been with you so long now, you forgot me
this complacency mixed with tenacity
fuelled the spell that cast us apart.
Our high horses ride not on the sands
of their approval, nor do they rest upon
the receded banks of old fools.