deepundergroundpoetry.com
Asking Questions
Mist, mossing over accuracy
Why don't you see me?
I see a lot of things
But they are blue and blurred,
Un-disturbed
Like a fragile islet,
An ecosystem of minds and thoughts
What comprises an idea?
Synapses firing
In comprehensible manner
Does the coastline consider itself part of the land or part of the sea?
Sometimes I forget about the water
Though my composition of 70% tends to disagree
And I ask when I can see you again
And you don't answer
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