QED

poesy

skipping stone

what project this chaos…a sanctuary?
which inhibits me
and transforms me
into the constant meal ticket
which has no other form:
I am no longer the apple
But I am the ant!
who traverses the abandoned real
cursing victory of mind;
my prizes once gathered and shined
are thrown into man-made lakes
and exist only to be found and
pawned into the world of the
unbeliever.

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