Don't look back.
Brothers of wood
grain.
strain in the cavernous world of
wax.
Wood brothers in rain-
warped
ways split-
collided
midnight swimming.
swarming.
steaming like the buzz of
be ings
pressed like
pedal's
full throttle of a delicate
beast.
breast alarmed and
arisen.
Erased.
rippled reflection.
rips.
shadow following
-us all-
like a stare
a scare..
Girls of seven,
poised.
lunch pails.
uniforms.
pony tails.
should be speech of unicorns..
instead-
'racially abusive about driver
who keeps us still for moments.
Their feet don't even touch the ground..
making it all the worse.
... and i can't help but looking back.
Buckets of rain-
buckets of tears.
-------
fear's in the eye.
he said it is a good thing.
Fear the gateway
to the souL.
I ask why
and i continue to wander and
wonder through it all..
Still i look back.
Still i try to figure it all out.
I'm not sure that it is possible
nor
meant to be.
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